OK, I figured it was time to bite the bullet, the self-portrait bullet. I’ve never actually done one. I did of course earlier in this blog do a kindergarten portrait, but I’ve obviously changed quite a bit since then. It’s getting late (what else is new?), so I will have to finish tomorrow. I actually did do art work during the day today, I have several projects that aren’t finished, actually too many, and decided to spend some time on finishing work. I didn’t begin the portrait until after seven tonight. The most troublesome spot in my portrait is my mouth. I have already mentioned my Osmond sized teeth, but what I failed to mention is the chip right in the front. Many, many (too many to mention) years ago, I in all my gracefulness was walking up the sidewalk tossing a ball in the air, my sister, Marion was sitting on the ground putting ants in a jar. Why? I have no idea. Anyway, I didn’t see her, fell right over her and landed on my mouth. Saved my parents a fortune in braces in a single fall. Prior to that I looked like a could have been David Letterman’s long-lost cousin. A few years ago when I moved here to California, more than one dentist spoke at length to me about how they could “fix” my teeth. I wasn’t interested in changing them. I didn’t grow up in the perfection obsessed culture that exists today. I feel for all the young girls who are daily assaulted with altered images of perfect models. We all know that I have my not good enough issues, but I like my teeth. (Well OK, the Osmond size is just a little disturbing)  I don’t love everything about myself, both physical, and there is that steel rod of self-righteousness that runs up my spine, but that doesn’t prevent me from loving myself. I think that age has a lot to do with my attitude. After a while a lot of the nonsense just doesn’t matter any more. I am who I am, although there is that twenty pounds I want to lose…

In my not quite finished glory, me, in pencil from a photo taken about two years ago.