Body Viscera 

It feels a little awkward to say now, but my face isn't the face I was born with. I bought myself a new nose when I was 17, funded through my blood, sweat, and tears, because I had horrific body dysmorphia as a child and teenager, among other reasons that shall remain personal. And I don't think my self-esteem will ever be as high as those first two years after my nose job, because it felt like all of my problems were fixed. 

It may surprise you to learn that all of my problems were not in fact fixed, and that I still have body dysmorphia. It's a really violent condition; I used to tear myself to pieces over it, and it felt like this vicious animal that just kept devouring me the moment I looked in a mirror or at a picture of myself. It's still such a visceral feeling to me, and as I was making this piece, I was struggling with it again, and that word just kept echoing in my head. This idea of the gruesome viscera that is inside of me, and the feeling of my body dysmorphia coming to the surface again after I thought I had finally beaten it was pretty terrifying. 

I would like to be as perfect as the me that I can paint, and I would really like to fulfill the unrealistic expectations I have for myself as a woman. And while I recognize that beauty is an unattainable myth and a social currency created by the patriarchy meant to hold me back as a woman, spend my money, and keep me politically occupied- I still want to be considered beautiful. Beauty is power, and power is control, and if I have control, then perhaps that visceral feeling won't be there. Thus became this elaborate life-sized portrait of myself, perfect as a doll, improved upon from a wonderful selfie of myself, surrounded by the viscera, gore, bruises and violence that are the context to how I got and how I feel about my appearance as a woman.