As I continue these photos on a daily basis, I see myself change. Over the course of nearly two months, I think my appearance is notably different. I'll leave you to decide that on your own if you wish, although in the grand scheme of things it doesn't really matter.
What does matter, though [to me], is something I saw the other day when I was about to cross the street to my apartment after class.
I saw underneath the noon-day sun and blue sky, in the lifting moisture and hanging humidity, and through the noise and drone of street sounds, the innocent and pure shrieks of laughter from two 5-6 year old boys.
They were laughing at a taxi cab. I mean, not really at the cab, but at the phenomenon that I so often enjoyed as a child (unabashedly still do) of reflection distortion. The black cab was a perfect "house of mirrors" for these two children as it was parked on the corner of the street: they delighted in the transformations their forms undertook as they approached and backed away from the car. Stepping aside and closer to each other further distorted their figures and their laughter grew.
I walked along and smiled broadly without hindrance. It's the chord of unreserved happiness that always strikes the inner child, and that sight did just the thing.
Angela
Tango en las calles de la Boca
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