My publisher sent me the cover layout of my new book that will be launched a month from now at the Manila International Book Fair (MIBF). I’d have given it a thumbs up except for . . . my photo?!
It’s a three-year-old-photo-studio shot (below), required for a coffee table book. Since it was professionally done, it has high resolution and fit for publication.
But the pandemic completely altered my appearance. I no longer go to the beauty parlor, so my hair is now long and cut amateurishly by our househelper. The three-year quarantine also took a toll on me, as revealed by the looking glass.
“That isn’t me anymore!” I messaged back, and attached four of my faces, cut out from group shots.
Alas, the layout artist disapproved them all and required a high-res photo. No way was I ever going to a photo studio again and go through another posing ordeal.
My solo photos through the years are mostly stolen or candid shots. The posed ones are those in groufies or a group. Somehow, my family is averse to posing for photos—which is ironic, because my daughter-in-law is an excellent and in-demand professional photographer in the US.
Anyway, this is one of my favorite pictures of me.
Someone took it while I was facilitating our women’s Sunday school (my happy place) in church recently. It will not make it to any book cover but it made it to my treasure chest of grace.
You guessed right; the artist will use my three-year old photo.
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