nearly everything on this site went through the page available if you click the picture

First thing is the texture of red. Probably a portion of arm, tricep area maybe, definitely from Susanna's red knit sweater. How that portion of sweater came to be chosen for detail, how it impressed upon the photographer its nature as a photoworthy subject, is beyond recall; not even sure who took the picture; could have been me, or anyone else taking snapshots on the birthday boy's behalf, under imperative that such photodocumentation was indeed essential for that Nov. 10. Upon close inspection, however, the date printed on the photo's backside is really Nov. 11; evidence that, in fact, my official birthday had technically passed when the picture was actually taken, at which point we had, from plastic cups, already blitzed through most of the (lukewarm) white wine and (equally lukewarm but why-so-foul) whiskey sodas on hand. The alcohol is key, for the image's ambiguity and post-fauvist blur, then, is perhaps symbolic of the experience, the drunken haze, what we might crudely and slightly mischaracterize as beer-goggle-ist in execution, before having weighed any consideration against the photographer's earlier-noted documentarian intent. Intent, of course, is the question at hand, but consider that what is impossible to tell is which side of the photograph is correctly up. Vertically, with red smothering the left, it would no doubt be Susanna's left arm in the picture (assuming she faces the camera); conversely, with the red at right, it would be her right arm. Red across the top, though magnificent overall as  meta-landscape (think faux horizon with blood sky), would require that Susanna and sweater defy gravitational law, that she float; count that out, we must. But flip the image 180 degrees, with the red at the bottom (as pictured), and suddenly we let loose the contextual floodgates. Is Susanna, in fact, lying down? Is it not Susanna's arm, after all? Safe to say it's not her bosom, which measures in nicely at a bulbous 34C, but is it perhaps her belly? The small of her back? One step further, and we have to ask if she's even wearing the sweater at all. So is this a photograph of Susanna's sweater lying unworn and dormant on the living room floor? On the couch? But then why isn't she wearing the sweater in the first place? Or does someone else have it on? How do we know? Questions abound, but finally we ask: Why even get a closeup of JUST a sweater, anyway? Is it THAT interesting? THAT compelling? Were we really THAT drunk? Needless to say, it's all about context here -- THIS picture, and most certainly, THAT drunk.


[Calvin Liu does this.]

[Forever after at

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