Today's Post is About Self Esteem

[netgirl_y2k]

Actually today's post comes in response to a prompt by ravurian: You're asked to provide a written description of yourself for an artist (who doesn't know what you look like and has never met you) to turn into a portrait. What description would you send to the artist, and would you be telling the truth? and comes in the form of a weird half-poem thing.


Firstly, I would say that I'm funny and have a nice personality; why that matters in a discussion of my physical attributes I don't know, but god knows it always does

I would say I'm of average height; because that's a safe place to start

I'd say I have curves that belong in a renaissance painting; at least, I like to think so
I don't look at a lot of renaissance paintings, and I haven't looked in a full length mirror in about five years

I'd say I have a gap between two of my bottom teeth, and that the most beautiful girl I know once told me I had a gorgeous smile

I'd say I have black hair with a grey streak coming down from my right temple; I'd say no, I haven't done it on purpose to look like Rogue off of X-Men, why do people keep asking me that?

I wouldn't say that the reason I don't wear skirts or dresses is because I can still half-hear the taunts of thunder thighs
Or if I did I might say that thunder thighs sounds like a fucking superpower, because sometimes all you can do to stay sane is pretend to be in on the joke

And if I said that, I might say that after you've been in a wheelchair you don't care what shape your legs are so long as they work; this is a lie, but it's one I keep telling because I want it to be true

I'd say that I have a smattering of freckles across my nose and cheeks
I wouldn't say that I know precisely how many, because admitting that you count your freckles leads to awkward questions about skin cancer, and hypochondria, and have you talked to anyone about these feelings...?

I'd say that I have blue eyes, with a bit of squint in my left one, and my friends say that you can tell if I've been drinking by it
I wouldn't say, it's Christmas, I'm alone, I shy away from my reflection like a fucking vampire, and I feel like crying at every bit of mistletoe I see, and you need the squint to tell if I've been drinking?

I'd say, I hope this portrait is going to be a caricature, or an abstract, or one of those ones done entirely in cubes...

I wouldn't say any of that; I'd lie and say I look like Eva Green
Because who wouldn't want to look like Eva Green

Comments

[lilacsigil]

I'd say I have black hair with a grey streak coming down from my right temple; I'd say no, I haven't done it on purpose to look like Rogue off of X-Men, why do people keep asking me that?

Or Polgara from the Belgariad! I think that is an awesome look and I was hoping I'd get it but sadly I seem to be getting the Reed Richards silver at the temples only look instead.

[netgirl_y2k]

Someone who knew I like the Discworld books asked if I'd done to look like Death's granddaughter, and I was there going, first of all Susan Sto Helit has white hair with a black streak, and second of all, no.

[adafrog]

Is it okay to say that's beautiful?

[netgirl_y2k]

Of course it is, thank you.

It's, ah, a little more revealing than I usually am.

[emei]

<3 ! You know, this is a poem, and a beautiful one at that.

[netgirl_y2k]

I feel like there's a "you're a poet and you don't know it" joke to be made somewhere here.

♥

[ravurian]

Oh; oh. Oh love. This isn't the first time I've wished for a 'like' and 'reblog' button for something you've written during this month, but it is the first time I've been genuinely shocked. Thunder-struck, even. This is beautiful, and you, god, you're stunning - the emotion and vulnerability and pride and ferocity of you. I think I've learnt more of you in this one post than I have after reading you for years now, and I feel utterly privileged to have been answered so defiantly, so bravely, so well. At the risk of sounding wankier and more pretentious than usual, I feel like my world has been shifted a few millimetres after reading this. This is the voice of your original work, I think, if you can bear it. This is what you have to say. My god. Thank you. You're amazing.

[netgirl_y2k]

I contain multitudes, apparently.

No, seriously, thank you for your kind words, because this was... uncomfortably revealing, although in a way where I felt better afterwards. It's why I've been shying away from original work, I think, you spend thirty years developing a protective shell around your heart and soul, and you're loathe to be the one who cracks it.

[ravurian]

I've posed this question before and the answers are always fascinating: I've been answered in the specific, with detailed physical descriptions, and I've been answered in the abstract, with characteristics and enthusiasms and objects of importance and character traits, and I've been answered in the ideal, with descriptions of that internal perfected self people sometimes wish for. I've also been answered in terms of the things that people fear are true, which is an insight of another sort. People have almost always chosen to answer truthfully, even if not always strictly speaking accurately. It's interesting to see where people's perceptions of themselves as individuals intersects with their physicality, and it's interesting to discover how little a physical description can tell you about someone. The things that make a portrait work are not necessarily about skill or technique or accuracy of physical depiction, but the sense of connection an artist feels with the subject - what they can tell you about the person they are rendering. There's so much of you in your answer.

I always wonder if - invited to an exhibition based on these answers - one would ever recognise oneself in the resulting work. Wouldn't it be wonderful to find out? I'd love that, I think. I wonder how the work would be altered or enhanced or informed if the written description was also supplied in audio format, read aloud by the subject. Can you imagine that in a gallery, walking up to a piece of art, hearing the subject describe themselves, and getting to read the words that inspired it? At which point would recognition of yourself come? Would it be the picture, or your own recorded voice, or the words? And what if there were multiple depictions of the same subject? I wonder if it would be possible?

And yeah, I have a knack of asking awkward or uncomfortable questions, and I'm lucky that some of the time they're awkward or uncomfortable in the right way at the right time. This answer is your map, I think. I know what you mean about the protective shell - that habit of evasion or elision (I wrote about this, after a fashion, here, which was about the gay, really, but it applies equally well to all the things I've internalised or dodged since).

If you can bear it, that degree of scrutiny, I think you could write something brilliant, and of consequence. But you can never begin anything that way. You just have to begin.

I'm going to buy you a drink some day :)

[frayadjacent]

This is a lovely post; thanks so much for sharing it.

[netgirl_y2k]

Thank you. It's a little bit revealing, but...