In the end of your life you have thoughts of yesterday, you can only return to the memory images themselves, the best of which are not always beautiful in your mind; endlessly remembered as spectacularly wonderful.
Consider the image in a mirror and you pick up a powerful sense of its backstory: lines tell of something that changed that face. Lines hold a wonderfully secretive quality. What happens in a room when you close the door? Self-portraits – funny, artful, neurotic, and occasionally painfully honest. Near sited. If I take off my readers, the lines disappear. How wonderful is that.
Here I was in Waterton Canada behind Prince George Hotel.
Shot 1-2017 shows me: the artist sitting at the end of a bed in an un-identified space, but reflective of my art studio, my second floor on my house in Charlotte, NC. Wearing an oversized mans white shirt and jeans, arm loosely hanging on the pillow, my face obscured by a curtain of hair and the foreground blurred lack of depth of field, one hand holding a paint brush and a blank canvas on the easel which soon will hold a self portrait. We shall see the results of the idea.
I have been gifted by my lover a Fujifilm X-A3 Mirrorless Camera XC16-50mm F3.5-5.6 II Lens for my seventieth birthday, which is February 12, 2017. Of course it is pink. My name for years, was Pink Mary because of my pink house which is now red. I was born in 1947 in Kellogg Idaho. My father was a miner in the Silver mines and my mother was everything else.
In my very first photograph, Self-portrait at Seventy, the main characteristics of this work will be to reveal and share the visible. My focus will be on the relationship with my body as I deal with aging and both the object of the cameras gaze and my art work. From the beginning shot, my body and art are both the subject and object in my work.
Painting in Homer's house on the wall. I have always loved painting large.