I have this thing about photographs of myself--I hate them!
But, recently, our college newsletter requested one from me (or was going to use an awful file photograph) and gave me a deadline of November 26. Monday morning I shot out of bed--I had totally forgotten about the photograph.
What to do? My husband had already left for campus, so I was alone.
Then I remembered a childhood trick: the self portrait. We'd sneak a cheap Brownie out of the house and take pictures of ourselves. They were awful, of course, and we had no way of checking our results until we picked up the prints from the drug store, but we had a blast.
So I thought, I can do this!
A snap with the digital camera.
With grim determination--no joy here--I set about taking my picture. My attempts were awful; I looked tightlipped, saggy, pale, and stiff.
Then I decided to take my show outside, where the natural light might give me a fighting chance at looking somewhat normal.
Finally, lucky shot #13, and...
Mind you, I'm no great beauty--never have been, never will be--but I'm happy with the resulting photograph. Besides, physical beauty is vastly overrated, but that's another issue for another entry.
Here I am, bright red hair and all!
Jennifer Semple Siegel