Backdrop

I had a wander around warehouses, train tracks, and heaps of rusted metal as I scouted for a background to use for a portrait next week. A brilliant young woman, a speaker at International Women’s Day, asked if I would collaborate with her on creating an image of who she is now: a person of color born poor and forced to to educate herself with no financial or home support; about to complete her Master’s degree in social work. She needs some “professional pictures” to go with job applications, but she wants them to say something about who she is, not just how she looks. I asked her what she likes to do, where she likes to hang out, what setting would be right for her, as a background. I said, what do you like to do? 

She had to think about it. She has never had the luxury of doing what she likes. She’s been working two, three jobs at a time. Waitress. Barmaid. Barista. Child-minder. Custodian, convenience store clerk. But if she could choose, she said, she likes reading, listening to audio-books. 

Maybe a library, she said. I said nothing, waited for her to think some more. No, she said. What about a hardware store? Somewhere gritty? More urban? Gritty and urban, but could we do “urban” without her having to make a spectacle of herself downtown with a photographer buzzing around her in front of people? 

This is my suggestion, a muddy backwater bursting with spirits of unseen artists of an art form they didn’t learn at school, crowding and competing with each other for the weeds’ accolades. Maybe she’ll like it. If not I'll keep looking. I sent her a few photos, but she hasn’t answered. She’s probably at work.

Your response to yesterday surprised me. You’re a mushy lot, you Blippers, with a soft spot for lovers. Scattering hearts and stars as you do. Thank you.