I’d say that the lack of a reflection is an improvement since it tends to get in the way of this little drawing of a cat that I like to look at in this bathroom mirror.
There’s something so perfect about it that I don’t quite have a word for. It’s just so poorly drawn, yet so damn appealing to me with its little dot eyes and it’s “W” mouth. All of the lines are straight and ridged yet so loose and flawed in the most perfect way. It just feels so real to me; I’m able to see that it was made by someone and what crappy fine-liner they used, like it didn’t just appear there. It was drawn with an idea in mind - an intention. The idea may not have been conveyed perfectly but I think the fact that something was lost in the translation of mind to hand to marker to mirror to eyes to mind is all the more real.
Standing in this bathroom, staring into this mirror, but not staring at my own face like some self obsessed loser, but at a little drawing of a cat like some other, more specific kind of loser, with the flickering florescent lights blinking against these olive-green, cracked, tiled walls - this cracked, scribbled-on mirror, paws postured on this cracked, scribbled-on sink and eyes strained on ink stained on mirror, trying to properly articulate and reason to myself why the hell I like this little drawing of a little cat so much, I, without thinking, wipe the mirror off with my sleeve. My chest immediately stings with regret. I don’t know why the hell I’d do that. I love that little critter, and any photo I take on my phone doesn’t show up well cause of my shitty camera. This is stupid. This is so goddamn stupid. Why the fuck did I do that? The drawing is still there of course, it was drawn on with permanent marker.