About a week ago, I wrote about joining a FaceBook group that is dedicated to self portraits. You can post only once a week with the self portrait that you made that week. I’ve actually managed to do one self portrait per week. As I write, my fourth self-portrait is almost done.
So, today’s blogging prompt, which is to talk about something on my bucket list, made me think about those self portraits. Because that something that is on my bucket list is to write a book about the wild adventure that my life became, rather accidentally. And I started thinking about incorporating the self portraits into that bucket list book. Then I wondered. All of those pictures of me by me. Would that seem too egotistical?
It wouldn’t be as egotistical as a series of self-portrait billboards.
All right. That would just be funny. First of all, it’s not cheap to rent a billboard. Renting a whole series of billboards and plastering your self portrait on every last one one them would be wacky. Especially if there’s no advertisement to go with them. Just the same face, over and over again.
Nah, I’m not going to do that. Even if I could afford to do that, it’s not happening.
So the book. A kind of memoir, with words and pictures. Yes, with self portraits interspersed among the stories. The self portraits tell stories without words. The format of the memoir could be a book version of a visual journal. That is how I’m seeing it right now. It could end up by being some sort of exercise. Still, why not do it? In life, there are never any guarantees of success. Getting stuff published isn’t the easiest thing in the world. Maybe I should just start, one self portrait at a time. One essay at a time.