6x6 and a Wedding Dress

Dear Eddy,

They say you photographed your own wedding.
That might be a myth—or exactly the kind of truth I want to believe in.

My name is Ji-eun.
And I’m what they call a bride here.
Flowers, veil, cardboard orchestra—the full set.
Only I took the pictures myself.

Not because no one else was there.
But because I wanted to see how I really looked
when I wasn’t trying to impress anyone.

I wore the dress, yes.
But I also wore my 6x6—heavy, stubborn,
as faithful as an old friend who never judges, only sees.

Mae says you wouldn’t guess it,
but my arms could haul sacks of coal by now.

What I want to know from you is just this:
If you had to take one image of yourself today—just one—
would you let someone else press the shutter?

If you ever come to Pyongyang (unlikely, but then again...),
I’ll show you my favorite light. It only lasts a moment,
between two regulations.

With a quiet gaze,
Ji-eun