I worry about style in photographs. I worry about creating my own style on this journey I'm on. I realised many moons ago that I was a visual person, images stick in my head regularly, and they can take a lot of shifting.
I try my damnedest to work out why I see inspiration in the people I do. Both Rae Tilly and Kaye Ford are two ladies who repeatedly impress me, their photographs works of arts that I hunger after. They have a style, a finesse that I aspire to, without becoming them. Style has never come easy to me, which has to be related in some ways with my inability to form an identity for myself.
I will get there, or at least I'd like to think so, but sometimes it just feels so hard. I'm whinging for no particular reason again. I'm sorry.
I know that some of this is brought on all by myself. I somehow managed to craft this persona of myself that masquerades as confident; at times even arrogant. I'm not sure when this facade started, but it has become thicker and thicker as the years have gone on. There are experiences I could blame it on, from being bullied at school to ridiculous situations that I have been in. Everything leaves it's mark, blah blah blah.
You know this and I know this and late last night after sleeping the whole day away I read this on ManRepeller, with this line ringing in my head as I slept
I feel conflicted. I’m grateful to be here on the one hand but curiously, too, longing for a new reason to suffer — if only to seem more relatable.
I have long used this space online to throw my thoughts into the world, for better or worse. Somehow my over-reaching sarcasm and dry wit is lost in this space and instead I come across as a misery. In an effort to be relatable I'm just miserable. For all the boy positivity and building confidence articles out there that I read, nothing is rubbing off on me.
That doesn't mean that I'm trying to change this place, or what I'm doing or anything. It just means, I know.
Be quiet Erin, show some pictures.