This is me. I am here in this painting, it is a distorted self portrait, though truly there is no distortion, it is only because it was painted in a different time than exists within the picture that it may not be correct.

I am here as a fetus. You can see me if you look closely, a pink outline of a figure, not quite ready to be born, gentle and unhurt and very solid. I have no memory of this time in my life, no conscious memory and wonder even if I want to know about it. This painting like the five to follow is painted in a single color, pure red. Only white and black were added to the red to bring out the highlights and shadows of the objects in view. The fetus pure and pink has within its belly, the only spot of solid black in the image. It is a terrible error in my being, and I do not know when it occurred or how. I came from my parents, represented metaphorically, not literally as two brick like structures surrounding me. They are my womb, and you see clearly an umbilical connection to one of them. This cord, embraces and surrounds the error, the spot of black within me. I am not sure if the blackness came over the cord from my mother or if the cord envelopes it in a vain attempt by my mother to protect me from it.

The star image, is also me, but it is much more me than my body. It is my essence, my soul, my brain perhaps, it is large and pointed, brilliant, but unfocused and incoherent, basically young.

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