I'm really not a narcissist, but I have been known to take self portraits. I am slightly obsessed with documentation and memory. I indulge my urge to preserve the mundane by photographing myself at my most ordinary. Each photo is kind of unremarkable on it's own. I like the juxtaposition of photos separated by many years and many lifestyle changes.
Here I am in my used-to-be-a-sleazy-motel studio apartment back in 1998. I decided that day that I wanted a snapshot of what I look like in the morning, in all my groggy, angsty glory. At the time, I thought this would look edgy. A portrait of the young artist deep in contemplation of the universe. Ha!
Notice, the careful placement of my pjs, so that my tattoo just barely peeks out. I took this picture with a timer and a real 35 mm camera.
Fast forward, 11 years. Same hour of the day and I have been awake for hours. I believe I was hosting an all-day playdate. I stopped for a second to capture my bemused expression in the bathroom mirror. My powder room has great lighting. I probably took a dozen shots with my digital camera and then I picked the best and edited the crap out of it.
It is comforting to note how much of me is unchanged. Of course, I no longer allow myself to be photographed bra-less, but I let that option go when I decided to become a mother. It's a fair trade I think.