This piece is an abstract self-portrait. It is also based on a photo I took in Paris. My reflection can be seen in the glass. It is also 50"x42.5".
This is before I added the bubbles. It just seemed a little empty and I thought the bubbles added to the delicate dream-like idea.
This is the photo I used-
I took this photo of a dress I was sure I would wear on my wedding day. I had such an unrealistic, simplistically, beautiful idea of love at the raw age of 15. My artist statement for this piece is in the form of a poem:
A little girl in the backseat of a
car-
“Mom, what if I don’t get married?”
The mom smiled at the baby she’d
carried,
“Someone will love who you are.”
If only it were that easy…
If only she could be satisfied
If only she could have complied.
But giving in made her queasy.
So she pulled them in
And pushed them away
Only able to love halfway
Discontent in their pin.
A girl strolled down a Parisian
street
A shop window held a white dress
Simple elegance free of stress
It matched her dreams pure and
sweet
Never been kissed, never been hurt
Never been scarred, never been
bruised
She didn’t know she could be used.
Love was only an idea with which to
flirt.
“I’ll wear this one day,” she
dreamed.
A perfect fairytale played in her
head,
Mimicking every book she’d ever
read.
Surely love was as pure as it
seemed…
That was the first lie she
believed,
But not her last time to be
deceived.
“You can make him happy again.”
“You don’t need to be loved in
return.”
“His lack of interest doesn’t
burn.”
“You’re the reason his interest
began to wane.”
Her first kiss told her what used
meant
She thought she was being selfless
In actuality she was being helpless
To that she would never again
consent.
“If I kiss him he won’t love me.”
“He can’t love and want
simultaneously.”
“My feelings should be treated
extraneously.”
“If I kiss him my obligations are
free.”
Her second kiss taught her to
disconnect,
Because if she didn’t care,
Then maybe the pain wasn’t there.
All she had to do was be ok with
neglect.
“He is my everything.”
“I don’t mind being what he wants.”
“I can ignore what my past haunts.”
“I can spend forever making him
king.”
Her third kiss taught her to be
more
That she was not made to serve,
And it was not what she was made for.
“He wouldn’t kiss me if he didn’t
like me.”
“This must mean something to him.”
“Its ok to kiss on a whim.”
“Surely, this wont leave in my
heart debris.”
Her third kiss taught her what
emptiness was
The feeling far worse than her ex’s
hate
Was to feel like you’re presence
was idle prate.
Emptiness is to be unwanted without
cause.
So where was her white dress?
Who was going to love what she had
become?
Maybe this wasn’t the only song for
her to hum…
Maybe there are other ways to
success
Maybe love isn’t a dress we put on
Maybe love isn’t always happily ever
after
Maybe love is a collection of tears
and laughter
Love isn’t something we stumble
upon.
Love could be what we choose
Love could be what we see in our
reflection
Love could be what we see in a
connection
Love happens when we allow our
hearts and life to fuse.
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