I have always erred on the side of observation— admiring the diversity of the world every day, as well as the diversity of people and their experiences. Human beings are incredibly interesting and complex creatures; the physical existence of humans is intriguing because we are all so different. We are a mosaic of different body types and shapes, different skin colors, and different experiences and world views.

The way that I choose to investigate this curiosity of mine is by painting the human figure and addressing the social phenomenon of body insecurity. My work draws attention to bodily insecurities in a way opposite to how models may be photoshopped to be perfectly smooth and free of cellulite and skin discoloration. I continually challenge my own internal conflict as well as the societal conflict of what makes a “beautiful” body.

How do we define beauty as a society? Why do we have to define beauty? Why have we been taught to see natural occurrences as features that should be concealed?

"Keep the Obsession"

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18"x36" Oil on Canvas

A quote from the subject, edited for clarity;

"The first time I wore shorts was in fourth grade. The first time my doctor told me I was overweight was in fifth grade, and I joined girls on the run. The first intensely regimented diet I went on was in 7th grade, and I joined soccer. I did the Jenny Craig diet twice, both in early high school. The second time I wore shorts was in 11th grade. The last two times I wore shorts were both in 12th grade. I remember the exact moment I first became self conscious of my body. I was in fifth grade, and sitting in a chair. My notebook was open on my lap, and when I looked down, I noticed my thighs stuck out farther than my notebook, on both sides. I looked around the room, and no one else’s thighs seemed to do that. I asked my mom “Why do everyone else’s legs fit under their notebooks?” I don’t remember her answer. I have struggled with my body image so intensely for as long as I can remember. I always compared myself to the most liked girls in class, convinced that if someone didn’t want to be my friend it was because I was fat. One of my biggest insecurities is my legs. Always tearing up when trying on clothes in fitting room, not being able to fit in high boots, and always always sucking in my stomach. The few times I wore shorts I did so with tights underneath, and while I remember being complimented I was convinced people were staring at me. I have never shown the scars on my legs.

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