Covid was good for some things… for time to stair at the sky, the quietness of nothing moving, gardening, revealing how simple life can be, and on a personal note, Covid gave me time to paint the self portrait on this page. A reserved part of myself doesn’t want to admit that I think it really, really good, and that it has a title, “The problem of finding a true picture of my middle aged self”. 

 

On seeing my portrait, my father said, “I can see you on one side, but not the other”. Of course he saw me on the brighter side, but there I am, on both sides. I even see the sadness my neighbour’s father pointed out when he said it was honest to the point of being unflattering. 

 

Social media presents a conundrum - put your best foot forward when in a challenging middle aged, liminal space fenced in by a youth obsessed world. One day, my young ones, you will see how middle age creeps up on you over night. You too will  startle at the reflection of your relaxed face in shop mirrors and when your phone camera turns on you by mistake. I cringe to admit that my middle aged face had me search through pictures to post, all the while wrestling with why I feel the need to post them anyway, but still hawk eyeing the most flattering ones, posting them and returning to the post again and again, especially if another comments on it, or likes it. I’ve seen you, the general public, doing the same! You can’t deny asking to check photos another takes of you and bitching about them posting pics they look best in, so put down that stone.

 

This dear portrait was me unbridling myself from the strange behaviours social media stirs in me... in us. The only thing is, time keeps ticking, years pass and what felt honest then is no longer honest, but rather quite flattering, given how time marches over our faces. Alas, there is no Covid boredom of repeated national ground hog days  to fertilise  a repeat of  this phenomenon - it stays, while I must march ahead, whether I want to, or not.

 

All this serious reflection and self deprecation -  that’s my cynicism seen right there somewhere in that portrait in the gaze behind my left eye, and it remains there still. 

 

Recently, I sat with an Italian friend who said, "South Africans can share very negative things, perhaps because of your past. Italians aren't like this. We are brought up to be more positive.  We want wooo wooo wooo”, she says as she waves her arms as if conjuring up joy. And, fun fact, she underpins this by saying, "tiramisu literally translates to 'cheer me up'". With what I have written here, given that it could have been anything at all, perhaps she has a point.

 

I’ll end by saying, hopefully these words impress the bejesus out of you and you give me writing projects. Bloody don’t mess with this fantasy because I swear as depressing as the above is, I have writing moments of intense joy as you will hopefully see when you excitedly jump between the pages of this website and think, “I must have her working on my stuff”. Only time will tell. I will report back to the abyss of this inter web space that might actually be read by no one. Does a tree really fall if no one is there to see it? Ok, I will shhhh now.

 

Over and out, 

​

Kerryn

(The person behind the portrait )