There are few things I dislike more than being photographed. No matter how gentle the photographer, getting shot is always painful. For one thing there’s that Cyclopean presence. Click, click, click. Pause. Click. I get ridiculously selfconscious—the total opposite of how I function the world. Then there are the results. Who is that chunky middle-aged women in the picture, anyway? She’s certainly not the image I have of myself, which is six feet tall, muscular, lean and about 35. (If you haven’t met me in person, hold on to that image, won't you?)
But I needed a current photograph for my website update (which is in the works and should be ready by September) and for when I need to send a printed or pixilated imaged of myself out in the world. Claudia Saimbert, a talented young photographer, came over to my loft one Sunday morning and took about 250 pictures. She said she’d have a CD for me later in the day.
"Give me only the best pictures," I said. Later that day Claudia dropped off a CD with 28 images. I take this to be a reflection not of the quality of her photography skills but of the photogenic quality of her sitter. Anyway, of those 28, I picked out a handful.
And out of the handful, I picked this one: