revolutionizing my public image

This is not the kind of picture I usually take, as you well know if you've been following my career for a while.

I don't usually take them, and if I do I don't share them.

This is a person I don't like to see.

I don't want others to see her either.

It's not about the clothes. The clothes are the least of it...these are my real clothes that I've been wearing often in my daily life for at least fifteen, twenty years. And the guitar is my good old big Martin I've had at least that long as well, maybe thirty years.

What I am afraid of is the expression on my face and the stance I am taking towards the camera.

Last night my brilliant oldest child Nina (of @thisisninaluna fame on instagram and spotify) told me that this is the picture her friend liked best of all the new photos she took for me this past Sunday.

Hmmmmmm.

I thought about it and decided to just post this picture on Intagram myself.

More people "liked" this one than had liked the others from this same photo shoot.

I always tell people that this daily blog of mine is decidedly focused on being a full time artist and all that implies.

Well, public image is crucial for a full time artist because it is the public who is supporting your efforts, your art, and you.

So to me it's way beyond some superficial thing about "Do I look old? Do I look fat? Do I look old fat and out of my mind?"

It's "does this image help support the music and writing that has become my life's work, or does this image take people further away from the core of what I'm trying to do with my art?"

It's a big deal to me.

So, this photo would never have been used if it weren't for Nina pointing out to me that in her private poll of one, she had determined that her own hunch was right, this was the best photo of the bunch....high impact....strong...fierce...like me...like my music...like my Sidney series of books....unflinching.

Good God.

I've created a monster and the monster is myself.

When I voiced all of my misgivings about this photo last night to my twenty-eight year old daughter she just answered, "Well, you're wrong. You look like Beyonce. Work on your shit, Mom."

Out of the mouths of babes.

My daughter coming to Minneapolis and staying with us at Rob's house is becoming a gift I did not anticipate. A whole new access point to my own work.

I am grateful this morning.

Blessings raining down upon us.

 

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