Portrait
Being seen and the inevitable shift of identity that midlife demands
I’m in my dressing room, indecisive about my outfit, in a hurry, unraveling as the minutes flash by. How have I gotten myself in such a twist? As someone who makes their own schedule, works for themself, and works from home, this shouldn’t be a problem. The appointment is starting at 11 a.m., and I woke up at 7:30, so it’s not as though I’m lacking for time. As my panic heightens, the heat being generated by my body begins to melt my makeup, my hair becoming frizzier and curlier, steam practically rising from my scalp. What a lovely start to the day you’re having your portrait taken.
