No one knows what the body can do. -Spinoza
Monday, June 29, 2009
If I had to spend the next week as someone else, starting about an hour ago, and I had to choose quick, I'd turn into this guy. The butter I got on my chin a minute ago from the Montreal bagel I was eating would be taken care of. I could apparently continue my practice for today of not wearing any pants. And since being him would place me in Paris, I'd continue to be surrounded by French, but without the rain. Plus, I just love that he managed to pull off the semi-ridiculousness of a polo hat for Vespa helmet, a v-neck with chest hair, blue-plus-stripes that's neither nautical, nor polo club (even with the polo hat!), and sunglasses that manage to be neither goggles, nor typical. But, furthermoreso, he's also lovingly unaware of the camera without being unaware of himself, confident with his feet placed strong on the ground.
My god, I've completely succeeded in wooing myself. That is, I've just fallen in love with the imaginary me-man I've projected onto one little photograph. Sigh.