Self Portrait #1
Self Portrait #1
Who am I? Depends on the day, the way the light falls, where your looking from. In some cliches I am a rebel mother, rambling mad woman, lush in training, inconsistent perfectionist, queen of the microwave, Mac wrangler, domestic t** (I did want to put something here that might have raised some little flags in some little cyber code that couldn't discern how far in my check my tongue was wedged), a Jed Bartlett supporter, {photo}shopper extrodinaire, pixel duster. I also support the separatist movement for the independence of chocolate as it's own food group.
What do I believe in: contradiction- this I know to be true.
As I ponder on the truly important questions of our time, like why does the first cup of coffee always taste better than the second but the second glass of wine tastes better than the first? & why is it that every time I open the fridge a block of chocolate comes flying out and shatters across my kitchen floor?
My eleven year old son keeps asking me what I'm going to be when I grow up. I just look at him and shrug, and answer him honestly- I don't know. Perhaps it doesn't matter what I'll be when I grow up, perhaps what's important is the who I am, or how many who I ams along the way.
I'd call myself an artist if I knew what that meant or what one looked like, but I don't know anymore. I make images, sometimes with pictures, sometimes with words. Are they art? I couldn't say. What I do know is that sometimes the muses whisper to me and sometimes I'm lucid enough to hear what they're telling me. Sometimes its just me and all myselves. As I don't know what art is I just have to make images that I like, that speak to me or of me, to put words down that are mingling in the recess of my mind, clambouring to get out. Like children, all I can do is birth them and nurture them, after that they're own their own, hopefully finding their own wings. It really has not much to do with me. I can delude myself that it does, that I am somehow important in the process, but really I am merely a vessel. When I am proud of them I have to remind myself that they are independent of me.
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Bisous
Gxx