drawings & sketches
2002 - 2011
As humans, we must always begin with and investigate ourselves through the “black box” of our biological apparatuses of perception.
For as long as I have been drawing, most of the images that have flowed from my hand have been somehow reflective of my own form, or of the direct phenomenal sensations of my own experiences. To look back at my sketchbooks and drawing pads throughout the years, is to visually trace the span of my life, from past countries that I have called home, to the great loves of my youth, both in the blissful phases and in the mournful stages of loss.
Perhaps this interest was rooted in the years I spent walking museum halls, where the female form still exists anachronistically in its revered state of high, idealized beauty.
These relics of past artistic cannons were always my strongest influences. In the myriad of collections across the globe, this idealized spirit still lives and thrives. Thus, it has reflected itself completely in my personal aesthetic, as I too romanticized myself, as we all do, through the instrumental fiction of our personal narratives...
Yet, every work of an artist, even those that have no direct reference to their personal self, must in some way be acknowledged as a self-portrait because it is an exteriorized manifestation of that very self.
Today, leading cognitive scientists and philosophers (Hofstadter, Dennett, Metzinger, et cetera) are concluding that the self/consciousness is, in fact, a fiction or a self-reflective illusion emerging from the physical phenomenon. It then becomes all the more poignant to assess the artistic tradition of self-portraiture in these terms. The artist is inherently a creator of cultural pretense, and what better medium to mine towards that purpose than the personal pretense, of the self that sustains the culture. The paradox then becomes clear: Can an artist make a work that is not a self-portrait?