I first removed this from my gallery years ago. I started to worry about it being seen as egomaniacal victim posturing. I would upload it briefly and then take it down, and then kept it down when my mother died, stemming from of a guilty feeling that I did not need to immortalize my parents weaknesses with some kind of narcissistic childhood trauma dump.

My opinion on this picture has gone from pride, to scorn, to curiosity. I think more than anything I am fascinated by just how varied my feelings have been about this over the years, and have found value in reflecting both on it and the circumstances/feelings that inspired its creation.

Fuzzle

Original