this is me…
my self image from the age of 12.
I grew out of it in high school by running track but
if you were to observe me and create a portrait it would be very close to this minus the sailor hat, I wore a basball cap everywhere.
I built over 150 plastic models in the period.
so the time spent in the basement painting and building made me soft and pale.
while trying to achieve the best possible paint job, I often had paint all over me and my clothes. I remember wiping a brush full of paint into my gym  shorts.
I never really noticed what I had done, until I was invited to Kings Island (a local amusement park) with a friend and his mother commented, “doesn’t he have any nicer clothes?”. A rude comment to be directed by an adult to a little harmless boy who didn’t know he was supposed to be something other than himself. 
The montra of the 1970’s was be yourself. Just be yourself and everything will be alright. Somehow the world is fair and people aren’t going to judge you, so just be yourself. In the real world that is a crock of shit. People evaluate you from the first second they see you. they re evaluate you everytime they talk to you. For the most part, yourself is not going to make them feel better about thier selves, so being yourself holds no meaning.
Now home is a place where you can be yourself and be accepted and even loved for whatever it is you are. At least in theory, but that is a whole other post.

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