In a passage with various takes on the question “What kind of man was he?”, Neil Bartlett captures the constant re-invention that inflects our lives.
When someone asks you to describe your lover, each time you give a different account. He changes slightly, you continually struggle to bring the picture into focus, to select the right medium and pigments, to say what kind of man he really is. He does the same for you.
From Who Was That Man? A Present for Mr Oscar Wilde
And so for day 722