At the age twenty-two.

At the age of twenty-two

I had just returned from a dinner with friends who I’ve known since I was eight. Our waitress was another friend from high school, who jocularly harassed us for our characteristic indecision. I received a super exclusive chorus of “happy birthday”, and another high school friend, with various skills, balanced a spoon on his nose. 

At the very last moment, right before dressing for bed, I thought to take a photo of myself on the day I turned twenty-two. Perhaps, in the indeterminate future, I might appreciate having this photo. It might bring to mind all of the wonderful or refining things that will happen during this particular year of my life.  

I sat in front of the mirror, to look at myself and consider how I might approach this particular self-portrait. My right cheek was flush, my eyes were glassy, the mirror was dirty, but I was intrigued. I wanted to share exactly what I saw in the reflection, but I was also interested in showing the way my eyes looked at myself.  For all the clichés of mirror photos, there’s some real conceptual gold. There’s no other way to capture those two things simultaneously. It’s strangely personal, and remarkably revealing, deeper than any self-portrait I could imagine. It’s not the first time I have found my own likeness intriguing, and I think I want to make these self-reflections a more regular part of my photographic journey.