Carrying on as per normal, copy pasted onto this reply, let's see if it works. If they touched your face... can they do that, or did you delete?

The meeting;
Well, I never! what a surprise. Should I now say: hello, nice to meet you?
Do I know you from somewhere?
Tea?

Now that we've met... formally? Properly? A little more? Hmm, has anything changed? It all feels so familiar still....

I am grinning ear to ear at the billions of selfies and photos people keep very close so as to be closer to themselves. I love a bit of proof bubbling to the surface that the world's gone mad, but you can escape it, by staying very close to your self, and not your representation. Then one becomes a representative of one's Self.

What bearings have been extended? I never understood why people would want to go through old photo albums of eachother. What more does that tell you? There comes a point in time... when you can only meet eachother in the moment to keep it fresh. How to do that? Not by sitting opposite a face (behind a paper and a soft boiled egg). Once we have the heart set on a mental image we lose the heart for love. And what else can see the indiviudal as a breathing wonder?

I hadn't expected this and it lends a remarkable sense of balance that is magical.
(My delving had not brought this to the surface.)

All the things you can hear without a visual aid now unfolds as true. There is hearing that surpases all the eye can see. But only you can determine for youself how good your hearing is, or how much you want to hear. What we can do anyway, around significance, is display the meaning of close encounter, which is a meeting of minds (for those scared at heart) or souls (for the very brave).

Without the clickety-click of a mechanical keyboard, or the tinkling of silver and the tapping of gold (bracelets. How's your background check coming along, by the way?) and without a picture, you can still read the whole picture. (Here read is in another word for spiritual hearing and seeing, resp. intuition and inspired magination).

I think we've made a worthwhile statement in our brave proposition and brave response (and you had already entered the Do Something Brave Weekend competiton! Daredevil!) - perhaps, not even so much to eachother, confirming largely what we already knew, that is, that we present, to all extents and purposes, as conventional as we need to be, for the sake of keeping our authenticity safe. No mohawks and plastic surgery, nothing more flash or distorted than we need right now in this stage of our lives. It's just more confirmation of there being no impediment to the liason formed here. It now comes down to stamina and oodles of creativity, to explore what face-to-face meetings unveil.

On the other hand, in the right hands a photograph carries a "charge" which a psychic claims they can use. I don't know how that works, but I do note for the record, I have high esoteric ethics, and I am not about to "study" your photo. I may probe but I never violate privacy. It has something to do with mapping the energy field that an individual is. I note howlittle "it matters" in the face of anything that matters more, but it does provide an additional "way in". Technically speaking (!). It's in the fridge with the rest.

My builders all noted that amidst my wierd paraphernalia and an A1 photocopy of the Dying Gaul and a blow up of Sengai's Buji, (I own no art, I've lived on humble means for many years) I had no photographs on display of my family and friends. What family and friends would raise the energy in here, I raised an eyebrow, confused by the forward observation which contained no small amount of suspicion. Was I a wiccan, one asked? (That's a menora, I'll have you know! and that's a Shiva.)

I will not deny that it feels like a Sunday gift to testify to how simple it can be for people to set aside differences (faces are all and only about differentiation). It is thereby not entirely insignificant, not least of all in the context of my trauma (of being misunderstood as a bundle of DNA and little else), and the possibility of lending another anchor point. And I grin again, broadly, like when you purported you were more of the head than the heart. Dear friend, I think you stand a very good chance of winning that one over me: in having more heart, more soul than you ever fathomed. The competion on consciously applied spirit we will save for another day. Which, while you ponder that, makes for a good moment to address our audience. One moment please.

Ahem.

To all the readers of this blog;
May we have inspired vulnerability and solidarity in our blog-reply of today.
All ye droves from creativecoin especially, (oh the promise that you are ...) come and behold how souls can meet without interference from the Lie, in their own time, refusing to bow to social pressure that makes no sense to us. For it is the respect for true encounter that we would like to testify to, in our demonstration that a picture takes a long time forming and is more valuable than a snapshot moment. What is settled by a representation? Enhanced? Detracted? That is a question I would like you all to answer for yourselves. We have given you an example for your inspiration.

Whatever reservations we have had and will continue to have to present first and foremost our WAFS identity by way of auto-portraiture and/or disclosure of passport name and/or the precise location of our whereabouts, they are a quarter sensible (divers are wary of dark waters, knitters choose patterns that suit the yarn) but three quarters boil down to the Heisenberg principle (see #sina-adventure's reply).

I am really me when I am unpacking my shopping (and there is not much to act) but it is not the me that meets the other. And he is really himself, caught in the moment, but in a meeting with his dad, not me. In how far do we hope to meet eachother by face alone? (Thinking of swiping-dating apps, which insult the soul to no end and are therefore "evil", if I may use my multi-functional lifeless term.)

Any (old) photograph can only prompt the memory of who it is, and then the heart must find the juice to start up the recollection, and the affections, the stories and significance.
Ki and O thank you for dropping by, dear creatives. Please leave, I must now speak with O again.

On the ageing;
Let me do some math.... Yes, I have sufficient fingers, done in a jiffy. 2019-2015=> 9-5=4. Four. Four years have passed since the taking of this photo in which you look barely a day over 32 (which is what I estimated you at in our very first encounters). What years have been unkind so far?! Do men really never age before they reach 64? Another theory of mine. Or 72 if I have to go by very optimistic sources?
So, we'll photoshop some extra time in our mental picture on top of this one, include a layer-mask for for the rabbit foot incident, adjust some curve levels for the losses incurred, change the blend mode for the drought we've been having, and the general misery of the world finally may dodge and burn, but my guess is we're talking, all in all, about a very light touch-up (down? What does not improve with maturing?UP!). You have no case, dear sir, with which to take time to court.