My body is changing. I am changing my body. It’s slow progress, but the transformation is real. I do not have an end goal, I am not measuring and counting my process or results. I do not believe that I will ever be done, now that the change is in motion, because my views and attitudes, tolerance and love for my body is an ever shifting target. My only focus is to improve my relationship with my body, as well as the movement that sculpts it and the food that fuels it.
My current fascination is the connection between my body as an image and my body as an object. In a photo, it can become both subject and object, it can even masquerade as landscape; it can be a vessel or a metaphor. When not captured in an image it is too real, too somatic and literal to be a metaphor. In fact it is strikingly, bluntly, and unyieldingly real and present. It cannot be ignored, it can not be reinterpreted.
Whether I’m basking in pleasure or tortured by its limitations, I can not dream it away, I can only face it. If I’m to partner with my body in any sort of healthy way, in any way that will allow my mind to be freed of the constant and inane chatter of questions and dialogue about its flaws and the impossible standards that it is up against, I need to stop simply looking at it and learn how to see it.