My most recent painting is hanging above my bed, and I am trying not to tear it down. I made this piece for my new apartment because I refuse to buy art when I can make it. I have this "I can do it myself" attitude. However, when I do it myself, I usually don't end up liking it—even if it is actually good. 

 

This piece is an ode to girlhood—staring at yourself naked in the bathroom mirror, taking off your bra because the lace is itching, and so much more. At least, that was what I was trying to get at.

 

I am critical of my art, if you haven't noticed. The only thing I see when I look at this painting is that the marble countertop on which the Veuve Cliquot champagne sits looks like decaying zombie skin.  But that is a personal problem, it seems.

 

This harsh judgment is something that women constantly do to themselves as we tear apart everything that we see in the mirror. Noticing our every flaw, from our stray hairs to our bumpy skin, we never stop finding something to fixate on. However, while we fixate on everything we dislike about ourselves, the people around us often think about what they love about us.

 

This idea inspired my painting and my mindset around it. Although all I see when looking at it is flaws. Others who see it think it is beautiful art. Art worthy of being sold or hung up in someone's house. This critical nature is something that many of us need to work on, as we are often times our biggest critic.