That was me, speaking to myself on the odd day throughout my life. Most days I lived life feeling only that I could "pass." Passing was a concept I learned from reading about people who appeared white but were black. I felt I could pass as "not ugly" on good days.
But this morning, it being my birthday, I received some photos from my past from my ex, whom I love to bits, and I was shocked because I thought I looked better than I felt, seeing my younger self with these old eyes. These must date from the early 1980s.
Today I am 68 and I am used to my old face.
|Taken this morning in the garden out front of the|
pharmacy behind my building. Yesterday was 14°.
|The pit beside our building. A source of tremendous|
noise since the beginning of June.
|I met a man on the bus. He was charming.|
This is his address book. He is a Milliner.
|Dinner last night. Octopus at Forage Restaurant.|
Dessert, below, was verbena ricotta cheese and blueberries.
|My breakfast with Dwight this morning.|