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We’ve all been called ugly. The word itself bashes like a blunt instrument. It hurts, and causes us to question our looks, our status, our worth. Calling someone ugly is a repulsive thing to do, full stop. It’s mean. It’s vicious. It’s cruel.


And we do it to ourselves all the time. 


Why? Why are we so mean to ourselves? Surely (hopefully), we wouldn’t say it to someone else. So why are we fair game to our own abuse? This proclivity for self-derogation is explored in my wall-hanging sculpture, i wish we never met. The piece itself, a part of a larger planned project exploring self-love and self-hatred, is ultimately a representation of the dark side of my subconscious – the ugly side. The negative statement, directed outward by the medium of the lightbox, is meant to portray my own personal meanness stemming from a desire to dissociate. This isn’t just a lightbox with a message directed at an audience, it’s me talking to myself. By confronting the ugly truth that many of us use toxic forms of self-critique, perhaps we can better identify it in ourselves, process it, and heal. 

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