Linda Rodin maintains that her point of view was not manufactured, but rather absorbed, specifically from a mother who was "very cool and different." She has spent the better part of forty years refining a perspective that is, strictly speaking, entirely her own. She does not subscribe to the traditional vocabulary of “anti-aging,” but she does believe in the absolute necessity of attractive eyewear and the quiet rebellion of consistency.

Linda’s current visual autobiography consists of a five-volume, self-published archive that ignores the traditional constraints of chronology. It is a narrative told through the gut-feeling of what belongs next to what—the placement of a silver poodle next to a pair of vintage jeans. She trusts the complicity of images over the redundancy of words.