What Do Our AC Profile Pictures Say About Us as Writers?

My Associated Content profile page has a photo of my elderly, seizure-prone but still quite charming cat, Norma Jean. The photo I'd earlier used was that of my youngest daughter with her long-time boyfriend - and the one before that, a photo of a photo, taken of me as a child when I was four years old. It held great meaning for me: the childhood photo had been taken by my uncle/godfather, who was a professional portrait photographer. In my mind's eye, perhaps, that's the way I wanted to be remembered. That's the photo that draws up so many vivid memories of my beloved uncle, who's been dead for the past four years.

What do our profile pictures tell our Associated Contents brothers and sisters in pen about ourselves?

One of the most delightful fellow writers whom I follow on A.C. uses a color photo of herself. In it, she's not only well-groomed and well-dressed, she also literally beams out at the camera. She has an open, honest face; she looks like the kind of woman with whom you'd want to become friends. There's something very inviting about the photo she's chosen for her profile page, and it makes me smile when I read her work. (Yes, you, Kay!) An excellent choice for a photo, I've often thought with more than a twinge of jealousy.

Then there's the Jersey boy of whom I think almost as a son. He uses a vivid sunset shot for his profile photo. It intrigues me. What does he look like? I've read so much of his writing that I feel like an (elderly) friend, yet...I wouldn't recognize him on the street should I pass him. I have only a sunset to draw upon for my impressions. He's funny, he's a fellow sports nut, he lives in the denizens of Jersey City, and his writing over the years has had impressive growth and depth. I get paid to write well, and I know good work when I see it. He does very good work. Yet...who's behind that sunset scene? He references a wife, he references a girlfriend; should I be out buying a wedding gift for him soon? When he stops writing, I worry: what's he up to now? What is taking away the time that he so obviously enjoys spending on A.C.? Is he okay? The mother in me worries when I don't "hear" from him...

There's the young man from India who writes the most soul-scorching poetry who's posted a photo of himself that appears to have been taken under harsh lighting. He looks so young and so vulnerable. His writing is so vulnerable that sometimes I want to wrap an arm over his shoulder and tell him "Please, your pain is sometimes too much for me to share with you. I can't always be there for you, but I appreciate how hard you work on your writing. I love the quirkiness of certain phrasings you use; I admire your courage in writing a love letter in the form of a poem. But do I know the real you from your photo? You look so sad in it. I want you to...not look quite so sad. How can I do that?"

I'd recently found the courage to write about a terrible, life-altering situation that involved my oldest daughter. One creep left the following comment: "I'm watching you...". He hid behind the generic A.C. stock photo profile, with one of those equally generic, uncreative screen names. He should, actually, be hiding under a rock where the rest of his slimy species resides. A curse on you for your cowardice, you faceless, nameless troll.

There's the handsome gentleman who happens to live in my current hometown. He looks friendly; he writes in an intelligent, straightforward fashion. I'm guessing, I'm daydreaming...I'll bet that he's an engineer, either currently or retired. There's something about that beard that makes me think he's involved in the sciences somehow. Perhaps he's a teacher, or college professor. What is the mystery behind that face?

Why do I read so much into the profile pictures that we each post for ourselves?

Perhaps it's because I've chosen to keep mine hidden. I know for a fact that there are folks in the cyberworld of Associated Content who will recognize me if I use my own photo, and I'm not so sure that I want to reveal that much of myself to them. I want to stay hidden behind the veil. I chose that breath of anonymity in a 'world wide web' place of controlled chaos. I want to keep you guessing.

What does your profile picture tell me about you?