Full written text, part of participatory installation Superbia.
1.
At now seemingly quite a young age, 11, I made my first online profile. My brother helped me set it up, choose a background and choose a profile photo. I always remember how someone in an online game called me fat when he saw my picture, I immediately changed it. Trying to prove to this stranger who insulted me that I was not fat, but pretty.
I got my first camera and took my first selfies, edited them using free editing programs, adding hearts and flowers, write I love you or dreaming all over it not really knowing what it could mean. I’d upload them to a folder titled me.
Growing up in an age where you’re induced to share yourself with everybody else and everybody else sharing themselves with you, it’s no wonder I’ve become obsessed with how I look. Needing to be liked for not only your looks, also the life you live, the food you eat, the places you’ve traveled, the work you’ve made.
I’ve created this version of myself that I can control, but is also controlled by how it’s being perceived by others.
3.
I’ve spent ages changing my online dating profile, putting down the right interest and pictures to show an authentic side of myself that also I knew would be perceived as likable. Only it’s not really a great representation, what does it say about someone when you show your interest in art and coffee. Maybe my taste in art is awful and what is really that interesting about coffee? We get used to labeling ourselves with these simple and empty bits of information. To explain ourselves in these terms, we become predictable and boring.
My fear is that this phenomenon, which doesn’t only occur on dating apps but social media in general, will slowly push all authenticity online away until it’s just an automated assumption.
I asked my friends a few years ago to describe each other as a fruit. Someone was
described as a plum and someone else as an orange. What kind of fruit are you?
5.
Today I woke up and decided not to care what others think. I put on my chunky boots, I stepped outside, feeling untouchable. The world is my oyster.
It took me a while to get there.
We strive for perfection, always wanting to be better, richer, healthier, skinnier, happier. In this search we’re constantly surrounded by unrealistic standards.
For the past year I became slightly self-obsessed. Learning about what I like, what I hate, what makes me curious, what makes me happy, what makes me sad. Most importantly, I had to stop comparing myself to others and striving for perfection, making space for myself.
I’m becoming certain of who I am even when the future is uncertain.
1.
At now seemingly quite a young age, 11, I made my first online profile. My brother helped me set it up, choose a background and choose a profile photo. I always remember how someone in an online game called me fat when he saw my picture, I immediately changed it. Trying to prove to this stranger who insulted me that I was not fat, but pretty.
I got my first camera and took my first selfies, edited them using free editing programs, adding hearts and flowers, write I love you or dreaming all over it not really knowing what it could mean. I’d upload them to a folder titled me.
Growing up in an age where you’re induced to share yourself with everybody else and everybody else sharing themselves with you, it’s no wonder I’ve become obsessed with how I look. Needing to be liked for not only your looks, also the life you live, the food you eat, the places you’ve traveled, the work you’ve made.
I’ve created this version of myself that I can control, but is also controlled by how it’s being perceived by others.
3.
I’ve spent ages changing my online dating profile, putting down the right interest and pictures to show an authentic side of myself that also I knew would be perceived as likable. Only it’s not really a great representation, what does it say about someone when you show your interest in art and coffee. Maybe my taste in art is awful and what is really that interesting about coffee? We get used to labeling ourselves with these simple and empty bits of information. To explain ourselves in these terms, we become predictable and boring.
My fear is that this phenomenon, which doesn’t only occur on dating apps but social media in general, will slowly push all authenticity online away until it’s just an automated assumption.
I asked my friends a few years ago to describe each other as a fruit. Someone was
described as a plum and someone else as an orange. What kind of fruit are you?
5.
Today I woke up and decided not to care what others think. I put on my chunky boots, I stepped outside, feeling untouchable. The world is my oyster.
It took me a while to get there.
We strive for perfection, always wanting to be better, richer, healthier, skinnier, happier. In this search we’re constantly surrounded by unrealistic standards.
For the past year I became slightly self-obsessed. Learning about what I like, what I hate, what makes me curious, what makes me happy, what makes me sad. Most importantly, I had to stop comparing myself to others and striving for perfection, making space for myself.
I’m becoming certain of who I am even when the future is uncertain.
2.
While sitting on my balcony, I look upon the apartment complex on the other side of the corridor. I count 32 windows and doors, 32 houses, 32 lives, shared or alone. Sometimes I see people moving around, doing dishes, taking in the groceries. I make up scenarios of their lives, just by taking information that is displayed to me. I wonder if they make up scenarios for my life as well, did they notice I smoke more,that I´ve been neglecting my flowers, some people not coming over anymore, some new people arriving. It’s like a panopticum, the prison structure in which the captured can be watched but them never knowing when the watching is happening. But in this case we both do the observing and we’re both getting observed, never knowing when, but always able to.
4.
Narcissus was the son of the river god Cephissus and the nymph Liriope. He had always been beautiful and both men and women were struck by his appearance and would instantly fall in love. But Narcissus never fell in love with them. They felt rejected and hurt.
For this arrogance and rejection Narcissus was punished. He was lured to a pool of water and when he looked into the reflection he was struck by love, believing that who he saw was the most beautiful being he’d ever laid eyes on. He became absorbed by his own reflection, unable to tear himself away from the pool. This obsession grew so intense that he refused to eat or drink, and finally died beside the water where the Narcis flower grew.
This myth serves as a cautionary tale about vanity. But Narcissus didn’t do anything wrong, the people who loved him for his looks expected him to love them back but he didn’t owe anyone his love. We should be wary of this obsession with the looks of others. We so often love but also hate the more beautiful, punishing them when they show off too much. But who are we to punish someone else for looking the way they want to? Why have we become so invested in other people's lives and looks?