Do you dare spend paint or ink on a self-portrait?
What about glancing in a mirror?
Or watching your reflection ripple across water?
Were you taught to look away from your own image, warned against being “selfish” or “self absorbed”?
I wonder: who else can see and hear you as truly as you?
Why can it be so hard to gaze at ourselves? Fear? Modesty?
What if we see something we don’t like? Is there a demand to fix it?
I marvel at the painters who put themselves on canvas. Some might call it arrogance or self-centred. But through what other eyes, ears and body could they express something to which so many others can relate? Tell me you’ve never felt something like the expression you see on the face of Henri’s self portrait (taped on my journal page below, left).
If we don’t hear or see ourselves, we depend on others to…
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