Imperfection as a form of perfection – ugliness in beauty or beauty in ugly.
As I mentioned on my own website here, I am working with Sorus publishing house, on my poem book, or as anyone prefers, on my volume of poetry.
I am not a supporter of this phrase, because I have the impression that a volume of poetry is for the chosen ones, and I think that my book of poems is for everyone.... for everyone who wants to read it.
Therefore, like any respected author, I need a photo for my cover. I decided that it should be professionally made photography. If it was to be part of the cover of my book, I wanted the book to be proud of me. I dug out a black jacket and a white blouse from the closet. Now, as I think about it, I am surprised by such a choice. It's nothing like me, and yet it was this garment that seemed appropriate to me for the occasion – to present myself with due respect to the recipient.
Induced years ago, the belief of the right choice of wardrobe for important occasions, undeniably left a mark on my subconscious mind. Black jacket and white blouse!
The photographer couldn't help but wonder when he saw me, ah's and oh's, how beautiful I look and how I dimmed the light in the studio with my beauty. Deep inside, I rolled my eyes, but I smiled and thanked for the compliment. After all, my mother raised me well!
The whole photoshoot didn't last long, after 30 minutes the photographer decided he had enough material to satisfy my book... and me.
But for me, something was wrong. I felt tense, although I had no reason. I couldn't find myself between two umbrellas and bright headlights pointed at my face.
It was uncomfortable for me to turn right, even less comfortable when I looked to the left. Everything was strangely not where I needed it to be. I was truly happy when we finished. 30 minutes seemed about half an hour too long. I wanted to get out of there.
A few hours later, Mr. Photographer sent me a link to my photos. I had to choose one, or two, which would go to retouching to become perfect ones.
I looked at these pictures and knew it wasn't me, but they looked nothing like me. This jacket and white blouse did not belong to me, they did not belong to this moment. Absolute inconsistency, as if someone had attached my head to another body. I already knew that these pictures will never end up on the cover of my book, not one, not a half.
However, in order for Mr. Photographer to finish his work, I had to choose photos. I chose two.
After an hour, one of them was ready. It came by email. I can't describe my amazement and surprise, the mixed feelings that accompanied me when I opened the file. I have to show you that.
Here are two pictures, on the left - before, on the right - after.
Has the photographer changed his mind and decided that my beauty requires the intervention of a Photoshop knife? Did the photographer "refine" my image in the way he saw me or did he want to see it?
I was speechless!
It rarely happens to me, but I needed a few minutes to formulate a sentence.
Politely but firmly, I wrote back that I didn't have to look like a 25-year-old woman, I didn't even want to.
I wanted to be myself; I wanted to look like Me.
After an hour, the photographer sent me a second photo, adding that he hadn't put much work into it. I took it as a compliment.
Please, see what I am talking about:
I really like myself. I know it sounds unfashionable in today's world; most women want to look like they're from the cover of the housewife's magazine. Is there a template for this look? They all look the same! Is there any mysterious book of appearance that only I do not know anything about?
Is this book like a cookbook? In addition to the recipe itself, there is also a photo, clearly suggesting how the dish should look like. As it does not look the same after cooking, you get depressed! How to put such unflattering soup on Instagram?!
Recipe for a miracle!
You turn up the color, intensity, sharpness. And suddenly everyone envies your culinary talent, in some circles you even are taken as a chef. And it was an ordinary tomato soup served with crackers.
Did the photographer, deeply involved, even submerged up to his ears in the photographic industry, think that I, as a boring tomato soup should go through the filter to make it suitable for the consumer?
But maybe I want to be that typical tomato soup without a filter? Absolutely imperfect, perhaps not enough orange, but how tasty. Definitely one of a kind. When you close your eyes and put the first spoon into your mouth, you know it's the most beautiful flavor in the world. The taste makes up for the look, actually, the taste defines the appearance, completely changes the reception to attractively delicious. Ordinary, delicious tomato soup is the most beautiful soup in the world!
It is a pity that it is impossible to filter personalities, there is no technologically advanced energy filter. If it existed, it would probably turn out that some cases are hopeless, no filter works!
If you are a beautiful creature inside, then this beauty overpowers and polishes external imperfections. If you are not beautiful internally, then let me know, I will give you a phone number to my photographer, he is perfect, he has all the filters that smooth the surface.