Femininity…

Is indistinguishable in a seemingly androgynous age, both visually and psychologically. Of course, the very hypothesis is determinable on ones definition of the sexes, and ones choice of company, but it is undeniably the case that the distinction between the sexes is becoming more abstract. Visually, the essence of androgyny is much like an art in itself; a toying with conventionality, a playful curiosity regarding the confines of the human body, and perhaps most fascinatingly how it can be incredibly attractive. Femininity, masculinity, androgyny… like watercolour they bleed into each other in my oratory, and explain the constant remodelling of myself physically: artistic experimentation.

My awareness of androgyny was prompted shortly after we shaved one side of my head at Olivia’s one evening. In shaving my hair, it was as if part of my femininity was taken with it regarding the responses it provoked: some found it hideous, some intimidating, others (predominantly women) rather attractive. My mother loved it. So did I.

Altering my appearance, increasing or lessening my femininity, acts as a catalyst regarding my art, as the medium lends itself to such analysis: physical aspects such as androgyny, femininity, aging, deformity, sexuality can all be created on canvas, photographically, or on paper as if to map it’s psychological grasp it has over me. It is, therefore, an insatiable curiosity of human nature which spurs me.