Vanity

May 17, 2013

Ink, Marker, Printer Paper, Adobe Illustrator

I made this piece when I was 15 years old. Around this age, I became very interested  in illustrations. It was a way for me to communicate and process ideas that I didn’t feel safe saying out loud. And even if I wanted to, I didn’t know how to put it into words. My goal through illustrating was to not only process my own feelings, but also connect with other people who might feel the same way. I hoped that through enough symbolism and cryptic coding, I could shield the real message layered underneath, and only those who could empathize with the message would be able to decipher it. It would reach its intended destination safely. For many years, this is how I operated. And to some extent, it still is.

I’ve been thinking about how to decipher it for you here. I could systematically go through each crafted detail. I could peel back every ruminated layer, piece by piece, until it’s torn apart. I could squeeze the life from it, until it’s dry. Lay it all out, on the dissection table, with each part labeled and organized.

Or I could just tell you how I felt. I was finalizing the first year of high school, and I felt terrible. I felt confused and angry. I felt a lot of pressure from society about what I should be. The natural laws and expectations felt unnatural, and it seemed like everyone was happily following them. Everything felt hollow and surface level. It didn’t feel like anyone could hear me. It didn’t feel like anyone could see me. It was a lose-lose situation, no matter how I tried. Everything I did was in vain. Misinterpreted, miscommunicated. People are too concerned about themselves to listen.

After drawing it out on paper, I scanned in the piece digitally and finalized it in Adobe Illustrator.