Use Your Sunscreen

Self-portrait #60.

Here's the thing. I have outlived my image of my father who had outlived my image of him. 

Do you get that? 

My image of my father stopped when he was age 60, a virile aged man. He lived to 70, outliving that image I had of him, surprising me each time I would visit.

What self-absorbtion I had!

My father was older than I imagined!

Now, guess what?

I too am older than I ever imagined.

Who knew?

Gemini X 3 / 5 +9

Charting the passage of time, activities, and identity:

what I do.

There's a lot more humor and a lot less ego involved in the parade of profile pics; at least, that's the way I see it.  (Judge me, if you want, but I don't intend to lose sleep over the matter.)  I have written before of Rembrandt's many selfies and of the third-person would-be objective perspective of mirror-images offered in John Fowles' novel Daniel Martin, an old favorite.  

Tracking my age and how the lines on my face and how the gray or white hairs on my head accumulate can be a sport with different events.  Guessing where the next ache or sore muscle will appear is another such event.  I am not getting younger, right?  

But I am also still paddling and diving and reading around and pursuing other such richly-enlivening activities.  (Man alive, I miss the studio and clay.).   I like to keep track of all those activities I am fortunate enough to pursue -- and keep track of the different people I seem to be and have been: Diver Matt, Kayak Matt, Teacher Matt, Clay Matt, and so forth.  After a long day desk-bound, there's a uplifting joy in checking what I was doing, who I was, in times past.  Sometimes, checking the last trip to Mendocino, for example, can spur me to check the weather and start making plans for the next outing,, however long or far away.  And, if that planning proves merely mental, proves merely daydreaming, that's good too.  I return to the matter at hand at the desk a bit more energized, a bit more ready to dig in.  

What with the pandemic, remote teaching, and reaching 59, I have been feeling reflective.

As a Gemini, I am used to seeing the world and myself through a two-fold lens.  

Here are a few more recent examples.

THE PADDLER:

(A) stern and serious, working at it --

B) Having fun on the water -- salt salvation --

THE VINTAGE LOOK  /  BLACK & WHITE GAMES:

(A) Ducking down an alleyway  -- "Call me Ishmael."          (Thanks, Herman Melville.)

(B) A "Pirate" Looks Toward 60?          (Thanks, Jimmy Buffett)

 

FULL-FRONTAL (portrait-wise):

(A) Post-dive, unmasked: 

red from too much sun and the cold cold water; 

slightly saltdrunk --

(B)  Post-paddle, pandemic ready --

This last shot: that mask gets lots of smiles, lots of laughs, from children and adults alike.  

It's a sea lion mask, technically, but many kids think it's a dog--and why not? 

Sea lions bark too, don't they?

So, I oblige.

Any man who barks in public can't take himself too seriously.

Album: 70's Style

Cover art:
concept-driven,
playful, somewhat mysterious,
often literary.

Interior art:
the artist's portrait,
informal and yet pensive,
often black-and-white.


Looking back, the sheer sameness, the simple paradigm, the artifice meant to signal sincerity, well, it's all so much easier to see with a bit of perspective.  Time the Leveler.  The struggle to represent a vision, to play it cool without seeming to try too hard, and to have a bit of fun as well . . . .  

Aye Aye, Captain

Captain (cat) and crew.

Lady and Light

What You See

is what you get.



(Self-Portrait #58.)

Le Carre's "A Perfect Spy" is a Perfect Novel

Le Carre's A Perfect Spy is, I hazard to claim, a perfect novel.  It carries the adult thesis that the crucial shapings of character are emotional rather than rational, and it dramatizes such a range of humanity, such a range of response, in its pages.  I recently reread this novel -- while traveling in Germany, Austria, and Swizterland, very appropriately -- that I heartily endorse and recommend, and for some the trappings of espionage will be a feature, but I hope for others it will only be a mere distraction.

Le Carre's novel is both an excellent spy novel and a classic work of literature precisely because Le Carre is such a good watcher of humanity and such a good reporter of humane responses.  It's a thriller too.

Here's a passage that matters:

As for Pym, he was gazing on the glories of the kingdom he had dreamed of so long.  The German muse had no particular draw for him, then or later, for all his loud enthusiasm.  If she had been Chinese or Polish or Indian, it would have made no earthly odds.  The point was, she supplied Pym with the means, for the first time, to regard himself intellectually as a gentleman.  And for that Pym was eternally grateful to her.

As a first generation college student, I connect with this passage.  Studying English Literature at UC Berkeley enabled me to regard myself, intellectually, as a gentleman.  And that mattered.

Centurion

Water-Shots

Whisky Friday II

Reflecting on Self (and Selfies)

This wasn't a selfie, but a driver's license.  A current conversation with a friend:

One old driver's license, I showed it to a very good friend and said, "Look at this. I look dead in the photo."

Old Friend said, "It takes ten years off you."

I said, "Ten years off dead--what's that?"

OF smiled, wryly.


(OF always keeps me down to earth.)

Excursion: Road, Water, Road

Saline Drip

One Shiny-Clean Truck

I was happy to see CA Fish and Wildlife making their presence felt up north.  Too much poaching going on.

I didn't expect to find myself looking back at me, however.

I was taking a shot of the warden’s truck (for I admire the proud logo and the officer’s mission), yet his vehicle was so squeaky clean, I ended up with a rather good shot of my own truck—as my kayak-buddy JP pointed out.

Do You Like My Tie?

Aquaman:
sculpture mix; green house-paint;
leather cord; and abalone shell.


Cover shot for that book of poetry I haven’t quite written yet . . . .

Step Sideways Towards A Truth

I have always preferred Herodotus to Thucydides and Byron to Wordsworth.

That meant, that means, according to grad school criteria (don't you know), I am damned to frivolity, to the frivolous.

At least by association.

(Or, so they say.)

Terrible that I let old school judgments color my own thinking, my own self, now.
Hard to resist, I think.

My other response is to give in, to agree, via an essential insight:
ham-bone connected to the brain-bone.

Prepping for Class

Shakespeare's Macbeth, of course.

Looking for Cool

Old clay: Mateo.
10/30/2015
Art class assignment.

Wizard Locks

12/8/15
Two years ago, but still relevant.
A favorite profile pic.
I look my age, and that's not always easy to accept.

You'll find out, my young friends.
MD

Monterey Paddling

Thanks for the photo, JP.