Lovers and Boys

This week I was interviewed about ‘Mostly Blue Eyes’ (attached below). The host of the interview (which lasted a mammoth hour and a half- probably the most I have talked consecutively) asked me how long I have been alone… or rather what is the longest I have been alone for. My answer was, now. Now is the longest.   

Then I read on the back of a sanitary wrapper that you produce the same chemicals when eating chocolate as you do when you’re falling in love. It’s called phenylethylamine (PEA). So I went and bought some chocolate. I ate the whole bar. I felt sick. I still do, but when I got home I found some more and ate it all. It’s almost like I have been consumed (in the two hours that I’ve known about this) with the idea that other things can replace love. 

I’m excited for the next time I feel it.

http://syn.org.au/group/manthropology/posts/2012/03/13/manthropology-e5-anita-lester-12th-march-2012

My mother- I felt this needed to be immortalized.

Exhibition Opening.

I’ve been receiving calls from incredibly disgruntled boys.

Some have been nice (with seriously aggressive undertones), and some have been just straight up nasty. I am determined however to stay firmly on the road i have paved.

If people are so ashamed of what they have done, how they have treated a woman, and that they are connected to me, they should have thought about that before. They should have thought about that before they kissed me- they should have thought about that before they entered me. Sorry boys- that is the point of this.

So I will black out your faces. Congratulations- you have asserted your control…you are still a man!

So what does that make me? My friend just became incredibly aggressive at the notion that a feminist is a man hater (I actually believe that this is true because the word has been polluted so profoundly), but in movements towards reclaiming the word, I am calling myself one. I am a feminist. And as a feminist (and just a good person really) I believe if you hurt someone- If you are someones life in a certain way- you need to take responsibility… A man is as responsible as a woman. It’s not a preach about equality (although feminism is joked about in the same way that people still joke about the Jews, or Africans…etc, so the undertones are still there), it is about the feeling that as a woman, I don’t want to feel like I’m doing wrong for expressing my sexuality and thoughts on thus.

So boys- think of this as a creative pregnancy. I am carrying the experiences you have ejaculated into me…and I know I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to come close to a pro-life extremist…would I?

Now, as for your faces. I will black them out. I’ll do that for those of you who can’t deal with it, but I know the real reasons…and they are not related to self-preservation and public image. I hope you have fun rocking your chutzpah to sleep tonight…me, I’m sleeping alone.

What I have learned. 

During the process of making these portraits I found out a whole lot about my decisions in men- both good and bad- and a lot about the way others think in relation to their own experiences.

While I drew each picture (one taking approximately 2-3 hours), it was hard to not think about the subject. The boy. The person I let be a part of my life for those moments. 

I reflected on the good: When they made me feel like i was the only person like me. When I had the best sex of my life. When I felt love. When (and sorry to be cliche) I couldn’t stop smiling and irritating my friends with my constant gushing. When we went to Spain. When he left an anonymous mix tape at my door. When we stayed in bed all Sunday doing all things Sunday. And best of all, when we couldn’t stop kissing.

I also reflected on the bad: When I cried because of something he had said. When I needed to yell at him from frustration. When I was told I was a bad dancer. When he didn’t kiss me for a year. When he ejaculated in my face when I was sleeping. When he made me feel bad for being ambitious. When he injured me. When he kept telling me he wanted my friends. When he cheated and gave me an STI. When he broke my heart.

I know now what I don’t want. That is not to say I have a list…in fact, far from it. I actually feel released from this idea that I had previously had about who and what type I preferred. 

I can say also that I feel like I can see my friends’ choices a little clearer too- although I would never pass judgment… with my sister as the exception. Sorry May.

This has brought up really interesting conversations too. I know I am going to receive a whole lot of shit from this…that’s okay. It was worth it.

*Note: All Images are chronological with the intention of updating. 

F.P

J.M

N.M

J.H

R.C

T.L

D.C

L.G