The pictures are four years old and it says so underneath them
- Looking for
- one person, ongoing, and I am genuinely open on direction
- Experience
- Fifteen years, two long dynamics, one of nine years.
- Around
- the west end, Toronto
The photographs on my profile are four years old and it says so underneath them. I get a message about it roughly once a month, almost always from somebody who believes they are the first person to notice a thing I wrote about myself on purpose.
Forty nine, west end. I have put on weight, there is grey coming in at the front, and I look like a woman of forty nine rather than a woman of forty five, which is what happened in the intervening time and is not a scandal.
The old pictures are still there because they are the only ones I have in which I am not identifiable to anybody who knows me. Every recent photograph of me is somewhere, with people, at something. Taking a new one alone in a flat with exactly the right amount of nothing behind me is a small project I have not got round to, and I decided saying so was better than pretending.
Fifteen years in this. Two long dynamics, one of them nine years, both with people I met long before any of it happened on a telephone.
What I want is one person, ongoing, and I am honestly open on direction. I have led for years at a stretch and followed for years at a stretch, and I would rather find the right person than the correct label.
Not looking to be told I am underselling myself. Not looking to be asked for a photograph taken today, holding something.