"self"

Whenever I am asked about competitive acting, professional jealousy, all that pettiness, I have only to reflect that the best actors, dancers, writers are not like that, they are too busy learning, improving, moving forward, trying to bring more to their professions. And they appreciate and admire other people who are good at what they do. -- Lauren Bacall

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On either side of my Cheval mirror rest one article of clothing. On the peg of one side, my black blazer, waist long, thick, close-fitting, masculine. On the other, my silk robe, loose fitting, of thin material, colourful. Both I wear so often that I can't bother hanging them away in my closet. Easy access is required. The one I wear most days outdoors (and inside cold cafes and restaurants in the summer); the other indoors, before and after a shower, or when lounging about the house with nary another stitch on and with nowhere to go. I was thinking last night in bed, lights off, sleep nearing, that there was something curious about having these two (opposing) articles hanging on my Cheval mirror. As though in some way they represent myself, the mirror reflecting my image as I pass it to gather either one. One part of myself -- so eager to hide behind a black cloak, to be protected. The other part of myself sexual, not self-conscious, naked. Certainly if these images were presented in a novel before the 1950's we would be talking about its representation of the main characters androgyny or the dichotomy between her latent and outward self. I thought last night -- unwittingly, real life has the possibility of being literary, presenting a perspective of ourselves that (as we learn about a character in a novel) is best understood through symbols.