For this painting, I started by only referencing a photo of myself sick with a cold at Christmas. I decided to readdress it this year to impart more specificity about its original concepts.
I have long been captivated by Irish folklore; under this umbrella exists the changeling. I feel a comfort and kinship with this creature, despite its reputation as a chaotic, dangerous trickster that can harbor strong ill will. The changeling is a fairy that replaces (often babies and children). A human child taken away, and something not quite right left in their place. When someone started to behave in a way that was not typical, it may have very well meant they were not themself anymore. They’d been switched.
My work is how I grapple with myself. As a child, I was called perfect. Who I was then left some large metaphorical shoes to fill. The exact combination of nature, nurture, birth order, family of origin, horoscope, and whatever else may have caused this - who’s to say. I am who I am, which is that I am obsessive. I never meet my own standards. I yearn for feelings of a job well done, and admittedly, of superiority, while perpetually feeling less than. I fear no one really knows me. When you aren’t doing things right anymore, or at least not the way everyone likes, they’ll notice. Aversion comes, the impostor is seen, the differences marked. Among other things, a changeling is likely going to be louder than the original, and not as cute.
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