Unanthropomorphizing the Self

I started off the new year (well actually, this episode of Skin on Sundays was on December 31, 2017) taking lots of notes. If you've been following me here, you know that I recently used money earned from Steemit to buy my first DSLR camera, a necessary addition to my life, seeing as I am the creator of a physiopoetry project, aka, a project where I write poetry on people's bodies and take pictures of the results. However, instead of taking this photo myself for the final episode of the year, I went to a friend, a fucking fantastic photographer named Eder CZ, so that we could take some night shots. Any photographer out there knows that taking pictures in the dark is not easy, so I watched carefully as he worked to gain some insight for when I might be ready to take some night pictures myself. This situation was particularly precarious due to the fact that we also were using a sparkler as our primary light source, meaning that the light source was unstable and short lived. As such, the pressure was even more on.

Along the way, as we went to one of my favorite spots in Mexico City (a neighborhood called San Angel--which I will go frolic about one day and share some photos here, because it is ridiculously beautiful), a security guard came up to us and told us we couldn't be taking this "special pictures" here, nor could we be lighting fires. Uff. This was a public street mind you, and sparklers are in no way fires, and my canvas was wearing a bra, underwear, and a lovely vintage robe, which is not illegal. Still, it got uncomfortable really quickly as he was breathing down our makeshift cobblestone runway, so we had to go find another street. Because I didn't want any cars in the photo, it was not just a matter of moving to the next block, but we did eventually find another gorgeous location, so it worked out in the end. These are the kinds of battles I face in the real world managing risque photography, but it's all part of the magic after all. If it were easy, everyone would do it, I suppose.

Watching Eder work in the low-lit environment was a kind of blessing in itself. Blessing from the universe mind you, that I have so many talented people surrounding me. Just because I have a camera, doesn't mean that I will ever stop collaborating with other artists around me. Collabs are the cornerstone of my existence because putting creative minds together is such a beautiful experience. Also, my canvas was such a sport, because even in Mexico City, it gets cold at night. She was working in undies at around 5 degrees celsius (in the 40s for my American readers), and she didn't complain once. In fact, when that security guard came around, she suggested lighting him on fire with the sparkler. Ha!

Unanthropomorphizing the Self

Loose strand of sea grass,
beached bit of sea glass,
we inhabit a small piece
and we inhabit all of it;
the only contingency
is becoming a ship
and unlocking
the porthole.

The poem itself not only reflects the amazing transformative year that my canvas and inspiration for the poem underwent, but the value of transformation at large. In terms of the girl, Ale, when I met her a little over a year ago, she was reserved, a little bit shy, but also brave to move alone to another country. And it’s exactly those kinds of intense movements in our lives that transform us. Now I see Ale with so much confidence and so little caring about what other people think, a quality that is so hard to capture, but so worth it. Her kindness, which was always there tucked under her wings, is now reaching further and further with her wings open. She is both the girl holding the light, and also the light.

As far as the words are meant to reach more universally, I believe that we have the power to become anything we want to. We just have to 1) want it and 2) do it. For example, if you're a person that has a quick temper, that personality trait does not define you. Imagine you are prone to lashing out when angry. That just means you have to work harder to control it rather than it meaning that that is just who you are. So in these words of the poem are the sea-driven metaphors, as I view the sea as an ever-ever-ever changing and transforming thing, which serve to represent that we can inhabit any way of being that we choose. The contingency laid out is that you have to make the decision to make the change, and also put the effort in once that decision has been made. We all have things about us that can be improved upon, and the sooner we are honest with ourselves about what they are, the sooner we can work toward being better versions of ourselves. What better time to talk about this than this huge representation of transformation, the turning of the year.