I started with a question, as I so often do: what kind of alive am I? A black and white head resting on a mélange of pattern and color—my mask, the face I offered to the world, was meant to be unnoticed. Fade to grey, merge with the background, don’t draw attention, don’t stand out. Could I change?
Alas, my clothing choices have remained much the same since I questioned them in 2016. Black, black and more black. A brightly colored scarf, perhaps. I still wish to remain unperceived as I make my way through the world. But now I wonder: is alive only visible on the surface of things? Or can we gift the world with rainbows from the inside out?
unseen waves absorbed
reflected transformed singing
colors dancing light
My 100 Self-Portrait Project is still stalled at #21.