[personal profile] matthewdaly
Barring any surprises, the facility enumerating phase of my Census work ended this afternoon. Then more training next week (with our team being split into as many as twenty-one pieces waaaaah) for the door to door operation. It was a lot of fun, being a beautiful day and kind of a FUBAR dorm to count so we stretched out the schedule to make a few final passes of the floors that we were assigned to maximize our count and put off the inevitable breakup for an extra half hour.

But something happened. Yesterday I went through my floor interviewing the people I could find and leaving forms for the people I couldn't, except there was one woman who I met that was too busy for the interview so I left her the form. So I come around this afternoon to pick up the forms, and hers has a post-it note saying that she's a photography major and would I mind if she took some pictures of me?

And, I, uh, well, huh.

I know my powers of self-image are totally borked, and also that I'm not a horrific looking person especially if I make an effort to clean myself up. I can smile at babies in checkout lines and they smile back, so I'm aware that I'm not a freak. But I never like pictures of me. I don't know if it's the freezing in time or the perspective switch needed to form a two-dimensional image, but I can pretty much count the number of pictures of adult me that I've liked on one finger. In fact, the very reason I don't have a userpic here or on my LJ despite having a digital camera and a USB port is that this process is one of the things that I'm afraid of.

I'm going to sleep on it, but I think I'm going to agree to her proposal. I'm certain to learn something. But I can't stop looking at my bottle of clonazepam and asking WTF is in these pills that I could think of agreeing to model for a woman that I only met for twenty seconds. Strange days indeed.

Date: 2010-04-15 04:27 am (UTC)
piranha: red origami crane (Default)
From: [personal profile] piranha
like you i have very few pictures of myself that i like, and i usually stay out of even group pictures. the only sorta fight the paramour and i ever had was over a sniggler group photo at a fermi lab trip, *snrk* -- he didn't realize that i was NOT coyly kidding when trying to hide, and tried to push me into it. it's not that i actually believe a picture takes one's soul, but i feel as if that were true; something is always so wrong with photographical depictions of me that it seems there is no soul in them; it disappeared when the shutter clicked.

no pro by any stretch of the imagination has ever asked to take my picture. i wonder what i'd do. i'd probably agree, but i'd definitely want to know what the photos are gonna be used for. and probably wouldn't allow nudes, *heh*. but i'd be willing to do weird of any sort. because art is different anyway, and i might find it interesting.

if she wants to take your picture, she probably sees something there. it'd be interesting if you can see what she sees afterwards.


Matthew Daly

December 2012

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