The image is of me and my dog, Percy. He’s a Manchester Terrier. The books in the nightstand are Foucault’s “History of Sexuality,” John Berger’s “Ways of Seeing,” Barthes’ “Mythologies,” “Sophie’s World” by Jostein Gaarder, “Leonardo on Painting,” “A Barthes Reader,” and a few others that I haven’t read yet. Above the books are two pair of dress shoes: one pair that I love and one pair that I hate. Oddly enough they are similar in appearance. Above the shoes is a bottle of blue nail polish and an antique lamp that has little or no monetary value. Above my head is a framed newspaper clipping that announces ”Fresh Cutz” one of the first group art shows that I helped coordinate. This show bears particular personal significance as it was pivotal in helping me realize a new sense of professional confidence. I’m wearing one of my favorite shirts (a child’s blue camoflage pajama top from Music City Thrift), my only pair of jeans, and my Mudflap Girl belt buckle. Percy is wearing his blue collar. The pink chair was a family hand-me-down that I’m not particularly fond of, but it suits Percy just fine.