the lost man chronicles


Who's That...Lady?

i wanted to give this set a name alluding to "the crying game," but hesitated because i thought I might be inferring a little much.

yet, "her" features are a little too hard for me. boldly, Iíll declare that I think I am a pretty good judge of these sorts of things after having taken hundreds of similar fotos over the last couple of months.

so albeit she has great calves, i would argue that they are almost too great, which leads me to think that she is either:

- a hardcore athlete, particularly a world class sprinter
- pumps iron regularly
- jamie lee curtis avoiding the papparazzi
- orÖa hermaphrodite.

there is also something funny about her hair, almost wig like.

and finally, look at the long vein on her arm carrying the handbag, very male...

she was walking too fast for me to get a look at her front side, so i am only guessing.

sorry if this inference changes people's initial perceptions of this photo...but this is new york after all and it would not surprise me if our this hunch is correct...

that said, i find that there are two important thoughts that arise from this discussion.

first, the notion that the metropolis is indeed a wonderful place for people to feel free to express themselves; whether it be through art, aspiration, orientation, style, or thought, places like new york city are hot spots of creative freedom which allow individuals to break free of the mold and pursue those penchants, inclinations, and passions that are true to themselves.

and secondly, i find it interesting that the unveiling discussed above might change peopleís aesthetic feelings about this series.

as iíve discussed before menís aesthetic sentiments are often futilely tied to our physiological predilections. and so, if one suddenly realizes that what they were initially allured by is foolís gold (i.e. the girl is a boy), should it automatically alter how we feel about the photo? is our concept of beauty inexorably tied to our libido? or is it possible that if we let go of such biases that one can still appreciate the photo for its qualities apart from the element of gender that it so boldly evokes?

after all, when that intuitive part of my brain that i use to take photos with started flashing i ultimately decided within a few milliseconds to purse this person for three primary reasons: the exquisite physiological and garment detail, the extraordinary color and vintage vogue feel. and so should it really matter if this finely dressed pedestrian is a man or woman after all? iíd have to argue that it really doesnít.




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