self

When we look at self, or at least when I look at self, I usually see very different people, depending on the time I am looking. It might be surprising how many self portraits I have painted  (I think close to 20). I include four of my favorites below. I think why I like these so much is because of the honesty of the paintings, and the truth that I believe they show, in revealing who I truly am.

This first painting was done after I had experienced almost a month long illness. One night, looking in the mirror, I noticed my hair was extremely long. For whatever reason that made me stop and take a long look at myself. I was walking with a cane because I had fallen, and was having difficulty with my back. But this painting seemed to capture me in that moment. A man partially defeated, or at least feeling a lessening of who I believed myself to be.

This next painting was painted during an emotionally difficult time. I was feeling lots of pain, and ugliness. Fear and lack of belief were expressing themselves in this painting. I felt as if these images were who I was, but people would either just look away, or look through who I was, and what I was feeling. After cancer, I believe life sometimes, can be a struggle, but many times your family and friends don't want to see the struggle, so they don't really look at you. This painting to me, is what my struggle looks like some days.

I love this painting, because it reminded me of my college days. I and my brother had a second floor apartment. The painting started out being an insect climbing the stairs to our apartment. But as the painting was progressing, I realized the insect or creature was me, probably after a night on the town.

This painting started out, I was going to do a painting of myself, from a school picture. I think either first or second grade. But once I started, I didn't want to just create a copy of a photograph, I wanted to capture the real me. As I was painting, I realized there wasn't much there to capture. I was a quiet kid, almost like a ghost. I remember on a number of occasions as a child, wondering if I was invisible, and if I was real. I remember lots of out of body moments, but was a bit reserved to talk about them with anyone. I do remember wondering one day, if I existed outside my body, and decided maybe I did. So it sorta made me wonder, what my body was for . . .this uncertainty seems to be expressing itself in this self portrait.  . . . .So there you have it, the faces of an artist . . .