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What i think about love— sorry— And an explanation of my tee

We’ve all been raised on idealism. It’s not a new concept to speak on behalf of what Hollywood, Vogue and the modern artistic lens has done to young girls and the way that they feel about themselves. Though I say modern, I have come to the conclusion that humans have always wanted to control the way the world perceives them in whatever capacity they can. I have a hard time believing Michelangelo was completely sincere with the size of David’s penis and quality of his haircut. We’ve always sculpted the best versions of ourselves— Instagram influencers is not a new idea.

In this piece/tee, I’ve illustrated how the idea of “love” relates to perception. A white, blonde, female lusts after a stoic and inanimate object. She throws herself onto him, marks her territory with the outline of her lipstick, and even though “he” is not real, nor can he escape his cylinder post, the control he has over her emotions is shown in the subtle direction of his head. I’ve felt this way about love for a long time. Fairytales and romantic comedies alike have filled my brain with drastic scenarios and stories. I’ve found myself falling in love again and again with the relationship I’ve created in my head— inspired by Phil Collins ballads and 10 Things I Hate About You, rather than the person in front of me. I’ve also chosen to see myself in these scenarios in an entirely different light that the person I truly am.

A love story, serves as metaphor for life at a much grander scale. We fall in love with ideas of people, and we also fall in love with the unrealistic expectations of who we want to be. Not to say that we cant be constantly growing or dreaming or working...but I myself, will never be six feet tall or wear angel wings. I will not marry a man who plays for the Bears. I cannot let myself be stuck in materialistic competitions and yet I spend much of my day dreaming of the person I wish i was and hating the reflection i see. Love doesn’t look like sculpted men and blonde Marilyn Monroe women, it isn’t solidified in dramatic stares and grand gestures.

Fantasies can be poison... can be. As an artist it’s important to dream, to imagine, to create. Sometimes I get too lost... What is creation and what is lusting? Waking up to what appears as a bland reality is disappointing, love appears

as unobtainable.

This appears cynical, and on Valentine‘s Day of all days!!! What I’ve written is a reflection, an intention to redefine love, and a determination to continue dreaming, but sans-toxicity.


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