Let us leave the mythopoesis of youth, love, death, and all that lies between for a day. Just for awhile. Let's just take an ambling walk through the fields and bramble of the vast landscape. . . no, wait. . . that is another trope for something we shall avoid. Selah.
I've been looking at some old files, things I've never considered, photos that have never been touched. Much is there, and I decided to try cooking a few of them up to see if I still had the old chops. I still have chops, but they are not the old ones. They are good chops, nonetheless.
Masks serve different purposes, no? Some are used to protect us, others to hide us, and still others to call the attention of the gods. This mask is certainly a call to trouble. I know that in the Time of Covid, I look better with a mask. It will be a shock when I must reveal myself fully to the public again. As you know, this blog's a shield. As Q used to like to say, it is my Bat Cave.
Victorian society was heavily masked. There were veils behind the veils. Revelation was improprietous. Deception enacted with faces bared.
In pictures, however, I always thought of the mask as a reveal. It allowed one to offer what might not have otherwise been expressed. You can't imagine how a mask can put a person at ease. Concealed, they are willing to divulge, disclose, display.
There are many secrets in a mask. The better truths often come from the shadows. Secrets and truths can be terribly intertwined.
There are secrets I will never know, but I still want to unveil the mystery. I know how the story ends. I just want to know what happened.