It's hard for me to admit to myself that I am aging. Sure, I look in the mirror every morning and
see the gray hair and jowls staring back at me.
And I can tell by the way my back hurts that I am not 21 any more. Still, I have come to ignore that face
staring back at me in the mirror, much in the same way that we ignore the picture
and posters on our walls because we have gotten so used to them.
When I launched this blog, the most frequent comment I got
from those of you who are nice enough to be interested in it was "you have
got to get a new picture of yourself."
One friend said "Parker, only you would have a blog called 'Stay
Loose' that featured a picture of you in your banker suit!"
So I called my friend Steve Trank, who captures exquisite
images of people and objects for a living (www.brand-visual.com). Steve agreed to help me right this wrong
about my blog and take a picture of me.
Our photo session reminded me of what an honor it is to be able to work
on something with a true professional.
When I clicked on the link he'd sent me to look at the
pictures from our session, it hit me.
The image of myself that I carry around in my head is not the one in the
mirror every morning. No, it is
not! It is the image of the way I looked
when I was thirty years old, staring
pensively out of a window in Hollywood during the photo shoot for the cover of
my "Looking for You" record in 1985.
I was shocked. Was
this really how I looked? I don't think
of myself as a particularly vain person, and yet I did not like the way I
looked in these pictures. Yet as I
worked with Steve on the details of picking the right one and cropping it just
so, I got used to it. Now I don't wince
when I open up my blog to make sure that everything on it is arrayed just
right. I have become like one of the
pictures on my wall.
It's always interesting to see the pictures of people in the
obituaries. When someone has passed away
in his or her eighties, I favor seeing a picture of the person from their
twenties or thirties in the newspaper.
When we dream of our lost family members, perhaps we'll picture them
that way. (Check out the stunning Jeff
Black song "Sunday Best" from his "B-Sides and Confessions
Volume One" CD at www.jeffblack.com.)
Should I be blessed to live another 24 years, maybe I will
look back on this picture that Steve took when I was 54 and realize that it was
the image of myself I carried in my head for those years. May you have a similar opportunity for self-awareness,
and appreciation for the vitality and fleeting nature of life.