Self Portrait of a Reformed Narcissist
I used to take a lot of selfies. Not Kardashian level but my first two initials are KK and I still catch myself catching myself in reflective surfaces. I’m working on it. Trying to focus, learn and think about an entity greater than myself. Many things and people are far more impressive. I’ve also been through enough to know that self-centered people who come across as arrogant are actually the most insecure ones, arrogance is a false form of integrity. These people are impossible to be in a relationship with, living in a world they have decided exists, which is defined exclusively by their opinions. Great for dictators, for marketing, with everyone focused on themselves, divide and conquer is already happening. Self-branded, self-unaware selfies, brilliant for distracting us from the power of a community, strength in numbers, the power of people. Evil genius.
So this self-portrait thing could go a lot of ways. I could tell you all of the tragedies, then give context with the histories, and finish off with the comedies to leave you in a good mood. After all, if you find humor in a tough situation, you’ve won. But that would take a while. I’ve lived many lives, not all of them being appropriate to share. In fact the easiest thing to do is to have “me time” and put on more makeup, pretending like hiding my imperfections erases my insecurities. Maybe if I rail a line of glitter I’ll forget about that time I called my mom a horrible name, punched a hole through my bedroom wall or shoplifted band t-shirts from Hot Topic when I was 15. The truth is, this doesn’t work like it used to. The glitter only shines so bright.
Or we could focus on the good things, I could paint myself as some kind of living saint who took care of her sister while she was recovering from a traumatic event, or used to work after school with kindergarteners in a rough neighborhood. Most of the time, whether I am attempting to or not, I end up making people laugh. It’s easier than letting them see how terrified I am. How I assume that when someone compliments me they’re being sarcastic, or how I feel like when something goes wrong I have to take responsibility for it, how when someone I’m close to is upset it physically makes my stomach tighten. How sometimes I wonder if my roommate is secretly trying to poison me to death with that tea she tells me to drink because it’s good for my immune system. That could get awkward.
At the end of the day, I usually avoid opportunities to talk deeply about myself, I’ve done it too much, I overshare and scare everyone away, follow up with a semi-sincere sounding “Enough about me, how are you?” This incessant need to word vomit is, in fact a type of trauma symptom. And then I lie awake at night thinking of all of the questions I have for everyone I meet and how much I want to know who they really are, and want to see if they feel this way too. I want them to know that I try to remember when their birthday is and what color leather they like for their dress shoes, so that I can pick out the right wallet to get them for Christmas, even though I should really be paying my credit card bills instead, but I won’t because that wallet matches perfectly and I already bought it in November. The ironic thing is you don’t use a wallet so I’ll give it to someone else and buy you a book without a note written on the inside cover because I would rather write a personalized card instead.
The thing about art is, it’s so much better when it’s personal. I have done piece after project where I research and regurgitate ideas and information, but the first painting I sold was a distorted self portrait, the piece that was powerful for my peers is one I wrote to call out a close friend, who was just reflecting the behavior I also exhibit and am ashamed of, followed by the advice I give and should also listen to, hanging over a mirror that I don’t want to look into anymore. Maybe that’s a start though, exhibit the dark past first, to make space for that illusive bright future people keep talking about. I suppose I’ll let you know when I find out.