|Me At Sixteen
||[Oct. 21st, 2008|02:56 pm]
Wizard of Changes -- ©cdozo 2004 to 2015
|[||The river is
Passport photo taken by my dad.
My father turned on the light and I felt the warmth bouncing off the umbrella onto my face and he said look here and I watched him peering down into his old Rolloflex, finding me, moving his thumb along one of the wheels on the side of the camera, bringing me into focus and then zooming in a little more.
I was sixteen and standing barefoot on the grey seamless he set up in our living room and I don’t think I ever felt more in focus in my life as I did then. He didn’t have to tell me to turn my head or lift my chin, I had a hold on who I was and felt full of who I might be and do and the picture my father would develop later in his darkroom---that lightless space he built in our basement where he was disappearing for longer and longer hours as my mother went to her pottery classes or rumba and tango lessons or beginning Japanese---that picture would be of the me I would lose that summer backpacking around Europe on five dollars a day. The serious, daring, voluptuous, shy, awkward me that I was suddenly reckless with, traded easily for other things, used to get places I thought I wanted to go, changed and changed and changed to fit the way I thought I had to and then at some point completely discarded and forgot. That me would still be there in a box of my stuff in the basement after my mother and father were gone. I threw it away and half the contents of the box when I found it, I was saving too much. But then, I changed my mind, untied several garbage bags before I retrieved it, because I think now the passport photo will be my way back…
Wow. This is tough. I like it. I flinched a little at first (I don't like sad things), but now it seems like it will be ok. Very cool piece.
This process seems much more useful than nanowrimo although I found the Cooper's Indians group recently and it cracked me up just thinking of that essay. Cooper's Indians. Lol.
yeah, i came across the coopers indians group recently too and thought, oh, hmm, its almost that time of year again, boy, i really wrote that novel and finished the old one too, didn't i, wow, nanowrimo is so...
your right, this is more useful...
i'll have to go check now to see where she was really going... airplane tickets were so cheap right about that time
Edited at 2008-10-23 02:13 am (UTC)
Changes, yes! You nailed it perfectly. That's what this picture is about.
The beginning made me sad. It was kind of like what really happened except that my dad took the picture at his studio. I miss my dad. And I'd forgotten the feel of my bare feet on the background paper.