This morning I was meditating on how life gets switched from track to track. While I struggle with my painting (yesterday I spent two hours trying to paint a pepper), photography runs along on its own parallel art train. Yet even this has a multitude of tracks.
Take these two images, one created with an arduous process of hand coating, life-size negatives, sun exposure and a physically demanding development, the other a digital snap, pixels transfered from camera to computer. One is a portrait, the other a self portrait.
At least it would make a great title for a memoir, Self Portrait with Rotisserie Chicken.
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