Le narcissisme?
I can’t say for sure that I’ve been self-obsessed my entire life. Not obsessed in terms of vanity, more like curiosity. I should ask my friends and family if they noticed early tendencies. By the time I was in college, I only ever painted my own face. Canvas after canvas, the same visage. It didn’t bother me though, Frida Kahlo was the queen of self-portraiture and she was famous!
Skip to buying my first Mac last year. I’ve lost so much sleep because of that little embedded camera. Did they include that specifically for me?? Thus began the late night lone sessions of literal self-reflection.
At this point in my life, people seem to accept my need to capture my own face. And really, these six images are just the tip of the iceberg. Is there harm in staring at myself for hours? When I look at my face, I don’t see beauty or lack thereof. I see my genetics, my experiences portrayed by creases and pigments, I see me, here and now. I love manipulating my looks via photographs. My face is changing daily regardless of my opinion on the matter so it’s fun to take back some of the control by making changes myself. I’ll keep to photographs though lest I go the way of Orlan!
