= a thousand words

I have had a rough year and a half. I have lost 4 family members, one of my closest friends, and my long ago first love who I dated through both high school and college and remained one of my most beloved people on this earth. For various unrelated reasons. Alzheimer’s x3, heart attack, illness, suicide. And both my horses also died suddenly, one for no reason we could deduce. Just fell to the ground and passed away. The other from colic which is just always sudden and shocking. But both were old. Throughout this journey of loss and grief, I have started to realize more fully the temporary nature of everything. Sometimes in a very philosophical way and sometimes in a rage induced “why the fuck is everything so cruel? The best feeling is attachment. The most real thing you can do as a human. And every time. Every single fucking time - That attachment gets broken by death either theirs or yours. It is an only matter of time. But it is always true.”

And through this process I have started to question what it means to be alive in the first place. And what it means to be me. And what am I? A sentient piece of meat? A soul in a temporary body? Nothing? Coagulated energy? What?

Which has led me on an artist project of cell phone self portraits. Which I share with no one. Because they are on a cell phone. They are not professional. I am 60 years old and that is not the best age to start photographing yourself. And I really don’t know how to edit anything beyond cell phone settings. And yet here I am.