Every once in awhile I look in the mirror and determine that it’s “Time to paint a self-portrait, kiddo.” I did my first selfie in high school…I drew myself as Medusa because the snaky hair thing intrigued me. At some point I did a drawing of me pregnant, and another painting of me as a Madonna…little escaped my pencil or paintbrush when I had the urge to Paint Me.. Most of these selfies no longer exist, and for good reason…some discarded because I was moving (and I moved a lot!) but most because they were embarrassingly bad drawings/paintings/ prints. I wish now that I’d saved a few more of them because they are both more interesting to look at, and a better reminder of where I was at in my life, than old photos.
I painted this one when the Always Pleasant Mr. T and I were dating. He was living in Oklahoma; I was living just outside of Chicago. We spent an inordinate amount of time and money on phone calls and flying back and forth. I worried that given the distance he might wander off with a more economical and available local lass. Clever girl that I was, I mailed him this good-sized, wistful painting of me to hang in his apartment.
By the time I got to these two dry points, the Always Pleasant Mr. T and I were long married and living in S. Carolina. I don’t remember that I felt all that miserable, but looking at these two prints it is apparent that I did. After a long and happy love affair with clay, I’d gone back to school for an art degree, where I felt frustrated and invisible. Plus it was hot. Plus there were huge flying cockroaches about the size of hummingbirds that could sneak into the house with the groceries. Our move to Seattle was one that filled me with joy!
Seattle: Self portrait with a ruby earring.
There has been a long hiatus between self-portraits, but last week I grabbed a mirror and some oil pastels and, woops, I did it again.
Someday, I’ll try smiling….
Holy Moly, Dude 