the vintage body
We are immediately judged by the flesh suit we wear, it's color, age, perceived beauty and what I call the fuckability factor. It changes as we change-pregnant-weight changes, age. It is the first assessment we automatically make when most people encounter someone they do not know.
I live in Santa Monica, CA and it is here that I came to terms with aging. People looked through me. I felt like a ghost, so I became a ghost with my camera and the ability to do street photography.
What was first jarring, became a way for me to become an observer of humanity. To help me cross from middle age into being a senior, I started doing nude selfies, not to be sexually explicit but to explore my body and the changes I see. I want to find beauty in the journey written across my body instead of the despair I was feeling and the fragility of my flesh.
I never expected to live this long. A year after being diagnosed HIV positive I was diagnosed with an acute, often fatal, auto immune disease that almost killed me several times. But here I am 64, alive, alone and preparing to die for decades.
I am not afraid of death. I welcome it. Not in a suicidal way but in a journey ended way.
These photos are my attempt to see myself in many ways. I cannot post them on any social media as they would be banned right away. I want to celebrate my body as well as show some of the angst and despair of aging.
I live in Santa Monica, CA and it is here that I came to terms with aging. People looked through me. I felt like a ghost, so I became a ghost with my camera and the ability to do street photography.
What was first jarring, became a way for me to become an observer of humanity. To help me cross from middle age into being a senior, I started doing nude selfies, not to be sexually explicit but to explore my body and the changes I see. I want to find beauty in the journey written across my body instead of the despair I was feeling and the fragility of my flesh.
I never expected to live this long. A year after being diagnosed HIV positive I was diagnosed with an acute, often fatal, auto immune disease that almost killed me several times. But here I am 64, alive, alone and preparing to die for decades.
I am not afraid of death. I welcome it. Not in a suicidal way but in a journey ended way.
These photos are my attempt to see myself in many ways. I cannot post them on any social media as they would be banned right away. I want to celebrate my body as well as show some of the angst and despair of aging.
The Face
I realize my face had become more of itself. The weight of life both the good and bad has changed it. People have called it "Resting Bitch Face". I call it "Deep In Contemplation Face". I realize people don't approach me because they think I am deep in thought. It is up to me if I want to connect. I decided I needed to initiate engagement. I believe human bonds, however fleeting are little bits of happiness and are essential for my mental health. In my head I call it "Being A Beam of Light". Just send good energy out. Even if people turn away, it is a win for me. There is freedom in being yourself, singing dancing, smiling, giving good vibes for free and not taking anything to seriously. This is my selfies with stranger’s gallery.
