There is a hideous tradition among visual artists: making endless self portraits. Van Gogh outdid us all with his bandaged-ear portrait but, as the saying goes, "that doesn't even slow us down."
We submit for your approval, the following gallery of instances of digital narcissism -- if you can call such grizzly apparitions "narcissisistic"....
Long live Dorian Grey.
Many people have lamented the new, serious visage on my home page. So, for you affcionados of the macabre, here's the old portrait.
Print it out and throw darts at it. I want to know if I can feel them impale my eyeballs in the middle of the night...
A naturalized alien denizen of the Bermuda Triangle beholds an unexpected and grizzly apparition. Life on Earth is strange.
An unfortunate embellishment to a Cristmas card I sent out some years ago was this Kodak moment. It prompted a good friend of mine serving time to quip from his state-sponsored chateau: "I see you've landed a position in the Hallmark Division of Advanced Greetings."
Even the stellar get nailed sometimes.
Here's an updated version of "Face Ball", with a background composed of portraits of my two pups Jasmine and Jasper, around whom my tiny universe revolves.
And here's my grand self-portrait, including Benoit Mandelbrot (the man in the moon) and Jasmine, my little girl-Spaniel mapped onto the mountains. I call her "Mups;" I guess that makes that texture a Mup-map. (Har har.)