Neutrally coloured, average sized and painfully demure.
Face etched with lines drawn with a hard edged scale rule.
So awkward in others company, so unhappy on your own.
Contained, emotionally stunted, like you've never grown.
The visual picture I paint, so vivid, in many shades of grey.
Suggests a lifeless form on a placid, dull and overcast day.
Yet it does not portray your worth, the colours I would find.
Or the depth of shade and light that’s contained in your mind.
Or all the careful planning, all the wishing and the yearning.
Or the motion as all those thoughts are constantly whirring.
So how do I catch something ethereal, not pure steady-state.
Particularly when trying to create this enduring self-portrait.
Makes me think that ...
The complexity and difficulty of reflection, notably the reflection on self, in addition to reflection on others, of the reflective practitioner in corporate life is illuminated by Loot in his work, Picturesque.
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