The photo got me thinking in about eight directions at once: about vanity, internet anonymity, blogging styles … okay, maybe not eight, literally. I find that I like it when a photo of the author accompanies an article online, or appears on a blog page. It’s nice to connect a face with a voice. I also find it helps counteract the prevailing (it seems to me) attitude that the internet is a good place to make noise and not get caught. I never liked that idea. If I ever concoct some bizarre screen name, it’s because my own name has been taken. (When I Googled myself a while back, I was shocked at how famous I was—as a rodeo pilot, or artist, or music reviewer, or whatever the heck this Tim Weber is [or are].) Same with the face up there—I’m not particularly proud of it (if one can be proud of one’s God-given mug), but I’m not ashamed of it either. It’s me. I mean, it’s a photo of me. It’s what people see—or saw.
For me it’s a good reminder that people do see me, even when I don’t think I’m being seen. It may help me keep my face presentable.
I remember once at the University of Chicago I was reading in an empty room between classes. I heard a voice say: “Things can’t be that bad!” I looked up in time to see a professor of mine withdraw his head from the doorway and shuffle off down the hall. I thought: Good God, do I grimace while I read? What else is my face doing while I’m not paying attention?
Underneath it all, despite my protestations to the contrary, am I, in fact, vain? After all, I took a picture of myself. Why would someone do that? I prefer taking photos of other people and things, but every once in a while I turn the camera on myself. Often I’m testing something out, investigating a technical issue at leisure—I suppose it’s a bit like painters who paint themselves because they can’t afford to hire someone to sit for them. But why do I save the results, even when they’re crummy? I think there must be vanity here, and maybe plenty of it.
