Do I love my own photos? I guess you could say that it's a "love/hate relationship."
Why am I challenging myself to this project of photographing myself practicing yoga with so many exposed flaws? Because I want to love it all.
Each of us enters our own battle of self image. Mine began very early in life when my older sister used to call me "potbelly." Over the years I have done many harmful things to my body to lose weight, maintain weight, or just because I was caught in a habit. This skin, these bones, all of my muscles have been abused at some point.
When I look at my pictures, I scrutinize. Mercilessly I judge down to the tiniest (but huge in my mind) detail, things I would see as gorgeous on someone else, I furrow my brow and self deprecate in my head. There is an ever growing list of things that I want to "correct" about my body. I want this to end.
Today I'm struggling in my long fight against self criticism, it's a low day for my body-image. While it's very kind to hear praise for my strength, my ability to overcome, I find myself thinking "I wish I saw that" or "well they can't see...."
My photos and self expression are aiding me in a journey toward loving the entirety of my being. Like forcing a narcissist to live without mirrors, I am pushing myself in front of the lens and my words into the open. In waves I experience this awe of my own body, followed by doubt or disappointment. Onward I plow, to the place where the beauty I see in others I can also witness in my own flesh. One frame at a time I am unveiling, I am desperate to accept fully, to revel in a love for my skin, blood, bones, muscle, hair, even my softer, more full (because I'm not going to use the "f-word" on myself anymore) parts.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
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1 comment:
Your pictures have a beautiful and unique style and I am motivated by your yoga to revitalize a long forgotten interest.
It is a mystery to my why it is that those of us with little confidence in ourselves have something of a habit of baring our photographic souls in front of strangers
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