Sixth Plate

MUSTA HAD . . . A crick in his neck since no daguerreotypist would suggest such an odd arrangement of their client’s head when they sat for a retaped sixth plate portrait . . . would he/she? Maybe the blue-eyed fellow attempted to look past the operator at his wife who stood patiently at the rear of the room making faces at her loyal beau, whose thick fingers didn’t display any rings. OR . . . the guy was simply trying to get comfortable and remain unmoving. I noticed that his well-worn jacket was actually split part above none of his beefy mitts. This man wasn’t too concerned about his overall appearance and readily accepted the shot that rests in a full leather case that had a familiar floral theme created by the diesinker Pretlove. Tarnish is tucked against the oval opening of the brass mat except on his hands. There is a mold spider on the guy’s ear and a few more elsewhere. One mat scrape is at the top.