You asked me why I like that photo so much, why, of the scores of shots of your face, I love that one above all others. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, when you asked me, because it's not like you look any more beautiful than normal or that the photo is remarkably well-composed.
No, I love it because it is simply you, without pretense and unguarded. The smile on your face matches that in your eyes. Even your posture, soft and unposed, speaks to who you really are. Precious few shots have come close to that one. And they grow rarer with the passage of time. You, like all of us, have aged, but it isn't the lines on your face. No, in most of the pictures, the hardness in your eyes tells far more than the grin that belies contentment.
I love that one because it's real, because it's you, happy.
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Periodic epiphanies and other less-than-profound musings from the North.
About Me
- MG
- I'm a mother and friend and daughter who sometimes moonlights as a writer, editor, designer, photographer and superflak. I'm a lousy bureaucrat and don't really know what it feels like to be middle-of-the-road about anything.
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