I started this series in 1993 as a small way to amuse myself. I've always "played" in the mirror, seeing what I looked like while I practiced various movements, poses, or faces. What do I look like when I do this? My mental picture of myself was so different than how I actually appeared in the mirror. I still can't quite believe that's how I look from this angle, or that. So I started taking pictures of my various mirror-antics to see if they could provide me with a different sort of description of my face. It then became a way of documenting myself at random moments. Trying to catch myself by surprise to see what I really look like.

I do worry about this whole notion of "the random moment". Somewhere I read randomness is a useful shorthand for describing a pattern that's bigger than anything we can hold in our minds. I do choose to use my camera at a particular point in time, in effect that moment is deemed to be more than ordinary by the recording of it. If I pursue this line of thought eventually my head implodes. So I move on.

I've used about twenty 35mm point-and-shoot film cameras along the way. A few dollars spent at the thrift store and I've got a new camera. This helps explain the differences in closeness and sharpness of these pictures. I have never claimed to be a photographer. As of January 2007 I have begun including images taken with a digital camera.

Over time the format has become almost standardized: Camera is held at arm's length in my left hand, approximately level. I am always the only person in the frame. Other formats were toyed with, but not pursued. These self-imposed limits create a uniformity of composition and a deeper investigation into it. It's essentially the same picture hundreds of times: my mug in front of a variety of backdrops. I used to keep my photos in a box. I'd peruse them occasionally and laugh at some. Others I wondered about, am I really that bald? That's what my lips look like? That's the shape of my pumpkin? This is what others see? And so on. Self-conscious scrutiny at its most banal.

I am always conscious of the camera, there may be a coy disavowal as I look away or pretend to be distracted, but since the camera is in my hand how could I not be aware of it? I play to the camera to different degrees. Quick props or facial expressions (my lovely wife: "Quit making that same mouth!") are usually the extent of my preparation; I'm not staging an elaborate display of alternate personas or creating a narrative. Sometimes it can be funny to stage something, but at this time I'm not really interested in focusing in that direction. Due to the length of time this project has existed, a narrative of my aging has been created - hair, glasses, and clothes all give clues to the passage of time. I've attempted to disrupt this narrative by arranging the images in a non-chronological manner and to reinforce the idea of the random isolated moment. This is the way memory works, not tied down to a time-based structure, but able to leap about with abandon. A non-linear visual diary.

A quick pic to register my image and preserve the moment photographically. They are not meant to define who I am or who I think I am, or even who I hope you think I am. I look at the picture and have a hard time equating that reflection with what I think I look like. This is me? Hmmmm, I'm not as pretty as I thought (hoped). I have no idea what I look like and the photos haven't helped. The more I do the less I know. I think this may be a key point for me. I am reminded of the old saying: A person with one watch knows what time it is, a person with two watches is less sure. What about 700 watches?

I've shown the actual 3 1/2" x 5" and 4" x 6" photos in a few galleries. To further the idea of randomness my lovely wife installs the photos in a rough 8' x 10' grid. I am intrigued by the various reactions from viewers. Some spend only moments looking, others invest considerable time. I watched someone jump up-and-down out of excitement. I have been asked if I feel excessively exposed by showing all these pictures of myself. Being a shy, introverted, misanthropic loner I respond: No I do not, the pictures are not me, they are of me and that makes all the difference. Some may believe they know me better after viewing the photos. After looking at hundreds of photos of my face on the wall, some viewers do not recognize me standing right over there, which says something about visual perception. One kind gentleman remarked to no one in particular, "This guy must really like himself." I'm not sure he believed my response,"Nooo, I don't really think he does." His look told me he was not convinced, and maybe he's right. It's not about showing off, it's about showing self-consciousness, the weight of it. Other viewers have told me about their own "camera play" and sent me self-portraits of themselves. People are interesting.

The images are as I received them from the photo-developer at the grocery store. They've been scanned and the resolution has been reduced for the Web and that's it. Digital images are simply cropped and resolution-reduced, maybe a little sharpening. Yes, I could have further cleaned the images up, run them through Photoshop and its grand bag of tricks, but the immediacy of the snapshot would have been lost. I will continue to add photos as I take them. Last updated: September 2008.

Thanks to those who provided technical assistance and web-space. And for all of the gentle nagging that can be imposed on an old friendship.

my friend warren