When I make self portraits- it comes from somewhere deep in my soul. I honestly don’t understand it, but the end result is always a visual representation of this marriage between the way I look physically, and this disgorge of feelings and inner life. It just happens when I draw, whether I intend it or not.
In class, people often ask me why in my drawings I look so scared, and I used to tend to evasively shrug it off as a stylistic choice. But honestly, the reason I so often looked scared in my self portraits was that inside, I was very scared.
I was a freshman in college, an introvert alone in a city that was new to me. I was struggling with an onset of debilitating health problems from what was at that time diagnosed autoimmune and autonomic problems- alone, away from my home and family I was going into hypothermia from just being in air conditioned rooms, accumulating infections and sores all over my body, constantly fending off and dealing with dizzy spells and nausea– and I had absolutely no idea why. It was the beginning of a long journey that I was unintentionally capturing in my work.