Thứ Bảy, 24 tháng 8, 2019
The eye of the beholder usually goes on to declare undying love for this fundamentally unreal image
We judge the image of, I was going to say a ‘woman,’ but any sex really. Certainly, fluid gender has virtually nothing to do with how the quasi-reality of dramatically lit ears, post-nose-job in Hungary proboscis, and curving swell of an ample bosom can massage a lover’s perception. They may also declare it is ‘the one’. This last is on the presumption that the perfect soul mate for the true seeker after romance does exist somewhere on earth.
holiday snap at least forty years old.
On the basis of one or maybe two such portraits, massaged and photoshopped into Disneyland, continents are crossed hither and thither. Yet these two-dimensional images of an unknown, perhaps even dead, or clipped from a magazine pout and a silent simper, seem to have the power to seduce the nascent dream of something to do with the body, the hope of a coupling kindled by a brief digital click of the shutterless eye in the box we call a camera.
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