In a way, during certain days I’m a bit sad that there always seems to be a word for a certain mood. Even the unexplainable was given a name : ambivalence. And while I’ve always loved the word, I now see it as a coward’s way of putting into words what one cannot put into words.
So if you’re all perceptive, or sensitive, or imaginative, as hell, I shall be happy to describe to you how Jul was in the picture he sent. To start off, the picture was grainy. Almost as if it were purposely underexposed during processing, like when we used to make those test exposure strips on Kodak paper in the laboratory during photography class. But the colour of the photograph isn’t coffee. instead, it’s tea with too much water. His head rests against his palm, and his fingers are through his hair, which looks recently cut. His eyes are too dark in the picture for expression (dark enough for speculation of what’s going on inside, but only for speculation), but where he’s looking at seems derailing. I cannot figure out if he was looking directly at the camera or if he was vaguely aware that the shot was being taken. Obviously, one waits for a camera shot, but a few seconds before the flash takes off you lose your firm expression and for a few milliseconds you’re caught looking offguard. (Recovery is a must, if you’re really flexible and keen)
Because he was leaning against his hand, his cheek was creased in an upward motion, and that motion looked very slow. He has a slight beard in the picture, obviously hadn’t bothered to shave for days. Hadn’t bothered or hadn’t noticed or hadn’t cared to do so (there are plenty of options). One corner of his mouth is tilted upward, as if he’d just had a sarcastic thought, or a secret. He isn’t slouching, he’s just leaning. Probably against the couch. Or somewhere that’s perfect for leaning. Or just as uncomfortable for leaning.
