Selesve
A lie through a story
A lie through a story
We all communicate something with our image and attitude. In Selesve, an Instagram account, I attempt to capture and share that "something" from random people and show it through a story and a picture that I take or use.
As of now, the stories have been about people from the street and, since recently, from Tinder.
I started using Tinder for the project because what I was doing in the street was the same thing that people do with the app. From a photo, they assume things that are probably true or not about the person.
"He is a good lover." "She must be a cat person." "He loves her mom."
You actually don't know any of these, and won't unless you meet that person. But that doesn't stop you from thinking it.
You actually don't know any of these, and won't unless you meet that person. But that doesn't stop you from thinking it.
So, I created a Selesve profile where I explained in the bio that "if you and I are a match it’s because I already chose one of your pictures and I have a story about it for my blog". Usually, men and women are interested in the story so the conversation is about that, without the typical flirtation you might expect. In the end, all the Tinder photos published in Selesve are approved by their owners.
Selesve is a creative writing exercise, a method for hunting insights and also, an opportunity to appreciate everyone that surrounds me.
If you want to read more stories go to https://instagram.com/selesve/
When I take the pictures in the street sometimes I ask the subject involved before posting it but sometimes I can't. So if you find yourself in @selesve and don't approve, write me to selesve@gmail.com and I will be glad to remove it for you.
#Selesveentinder :
The night he turned 30 he sat with a cold beer, took a deep breath and said to his friend: "Have you ever noticed that becoming mature means to realize that everybody else is not?". His friend replied: "The more seriously I take you, the less serious I feel".
La noche de sus 30 se sentó con una caña fría, respiró hondo, y le dijo a su amigo: "Has notado que madurar solo sirve para darse cuenta que los demás no lo han hecho?". Y el amigo respondió: "mientras más en serio te tomo, menos serió me siento".
Since he was born his frown furrowed. He has remained with that gesture that makes everyone believe that he is always thinking. It is a kind of knack that gives the impression that he is interested in what everyone has to say. The weather, how their holidays went, or what the dog ate.
On any subject his frown is the best speaker for the one who doesn't need answers.
Desde que nació su ceño frunció. Se quedó con ese gesto que le hace pensar a todo el mundo que él siempre esta pensando. Ese no se qué, que da la sensación de que a él le importa todo lo que le dicen... El clima, cómo estuvieron las vacaciones, la gripe del niño o lo que se comió el perro.
Ante cualquier tema su ceño es el mejor conversador para los que no necesitan respuesta.
#Selesveentinder:
Phagophobia, the fear of eating and swallowing. He believes there are even worst fears... "There are oenophobics, fear of wine. How crazy is that?" He has the habit of saying this during dinner--while he's not eating
Fagofobia es el miedo a comer y tragar. Hay peores miedos piensa él... "Por ejemplo, los enofóbicos. Miedo al vino. Qué locura". Comenta siempre en las cenas mientras no come.
Viernes de mierda! Sobre todo cuando te despiertas el sábado y sabes que has perdido hasta la dignidad en la última botella. Él tiene muchos viernes de mierda, y la idea era borrar el de ayer. Al menos de la memoria. Pero perder los pantalones junto con la vergüenza le jodieron el plan. Aunque sea los zapatos todavía le recuerdan que hasta las 14pm tenía pantalones.
What a shitty Friday! Especially when you wake up on Saturday and you know you've drank your dignity to the last bottle. He has many shitty Fridays. The idea was to erase yesterday—at least from his memory. But losing his pants along with the shame screwed up the plan. At least his shoes still remember that until 2:00 p.m. he wore pants.
No era falta de cariño, lo quería con el alma. Le encantaban sus besos mordelones y su piel canela. Ellos eran de esos amores de loca juventud para los que no se han escrito finales en los boleros.
It was not a lack of love, she wanted him with her soul. She loved his bitter kisses and his cinnamon skin. They were crazy young lovers, for those that 'bolero's' lyrics haven't been written.
It was not a lack of love, she wanted him with her soul. She loved his bitter kisses and his cinnamon skin. They were crazy young lovers, for those that 'bolero's' lyrics haven't been written.
Sola pero digna. Debajo de un puente pero regia. E inmaculada, además. Esas cenas con amigas divorciadas siempre le deprimen. Eso de estarse justificando la soledad a esa edad no debería necesitar grupos de autoayuda. Y es que, cada vez que sale con unas copas de más se pregunta por qué no se busca uno de 20 y acaba con la histeria.
Alone but with dignity. Under a bridge but regal. And immaculate as well. Those dinners with her divorced friends always depressed her. That thing about sitting around and talking just to justify their loneliness.
Every time she leaves with a few drinks in her she wonders why she doesn't look for twenty something year olds to spend time with and end the hysteria.
