I’ve been observing bodies more lately. Out of pure interest for the shapes, sizes, weight distribution.

Particularly the latter, because it is so personal, and seems to be so affected by a variety of things. Activity, and lack thereof. Resting positions. Probably even water and food. Definitely hormones and emotions (are they the same?). When they talk about wearing in public what you eat in private, these factors should be bundled in as well. What if, instead of cottage cheese thighs, it was sad girl hips? Love handles should be lonely grips?

Some bodies, alternately, are so incredibly perfect. Slender. Compact. Compartmentalized. Fluid lines tracing parts flowing into connective tissue and structural beams. If you watch them move, it is clear how everything interacts and works together. It’s hard to imagine that everyone has the exact same framework, because it’s less obvious, less elegant, under clouds of fat and sallow skin, sun spots and aging. Is there a person in there? A brain? A heart? A spine? Do they still think thoughts like I do? Or is it all a mush of early mornings, vapid afternoons, early bedtimes, and nostalgic food.

Shadows are deceiving this way. They settle into wrinkles and accent curves. All encompassing shadows can actually conceal, and trick, while their counterparts highlight and accentuate. Harsh light ushers in harsh reality. Flaws become less exception and more impression. They become what define you. Reveal you. There are few places to hide in the light.

Which is maybe why light is associated with honesty, purity, good. There are no secrets, everything is open for all to see. No one likes a hidden agenda, an unpleasant surprise. Deception is never a green flag, and no one enjoys being punked, even if it gets you on tv. The earlier you see someone’s flaws, the more easily you can accept them, and move on. And frankly forget them.

Suddenly it seems like a good thing?

The bingo wings. Glazed donut skin. Huge fake melons. Pea brains. 

Ok, maybe the last one takes a turn.