A Small Commentary on Selfies, Frustration, and Mothers

Neither of the original photographs here is a selfie, but the combination is my work.

This image combines a photograph of my mother, on the bench, and one of me. We are both close to thirty years old. I experimented with several colors, but the white is still my favorite. It just worked out, with no conscious intention on my part.  What looks like some sort of sparkles or lace in my hair is the shrubbery behind my mother.  When it was finished and I sat back to look at it, I realized that this image had changed the way I thought about our relationship.



There are a million details about her, about me, about the long years that we shared, about all we had in common, about our battles and the peace we found at the end. Somehow that photograph tells me what I need to know somewhere far down below the details.

Next post will be–who knows?  I can tell I’m moving out of whatever plan I had in mind about staying sane during the Quarantine and into the larger realm of just staying sane.


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