I attempted to do a self-portrait, ’cause apparently I am at my peak of vanity. The best way I thought to do this is to take a selfie of the pose I wanna draw. So there’s this interesting, kinda sensual selfie I made which immediately “inspired” me to make a proper self-portrait.
Turns out I can never draw myself as I changed my eye into a wider, sultrier shape. I made my nostril smaller. I made my cheekbones more prominent. And my hair a bit more tame. And if that’s not enough, I made my forehead smaller. Basically, I put my drawn self into a surgery that just revealed how I am so dissatisfied with my looks. This got me reflecting about where I put my worth as a young woman – should it be in my passions or my looks? I thought I am on this level where I understand I’m not the most attractive woman, but that shouldn’t stop me from seeing my worth. Or that mantra I tell myself, “You’re average, and that’s good.” But rather than sit and mull about my insecurities, I should realize that my average-ness is my potential for greater things. And even if I couldn’t draw myself, I should still celebrate because I drew a sensual woman on my paper. A woman I hope I could embody someday. More importantly, I believe this drawing can be interpreted two ways: (1) that I just hate drawing myself because I hate how I look or (2) I’VE GOT NO SKILLS.
But also, this is me plugging my art account, @friedratart on Instagram!
Ink-onstipated 