I am organizing files and folders on my computer and making important back ups for my digital art – and as I’m looking through old photos of myself and what used to be my life, I can’t help feeling emotional. I have lived so many lives. I’ve had so many personalities, fashion styles, boyfriends, lifestyles, attitudes, fears and dreams. Some of them were good, some really bad, but none of them feels like me. It’s a strange thing. It was me, but at the same time, it’s like those versions of me was a stranger. I can’t connect to her anymore, not on any level.
In some photos I can see confidence, in others I see signs of depression. I can trace my sexual energy going up and down throughout the years, depending on how close to my traumas I have been. Sometimes I am seductive and sensual, other times I am hiding behind a cloud of self-doubt and fear. I look submissive. I look happy. I look sad. I look lost. And only I know the reasons behind the various expressions and states of mind. It is like reading my life’s story just by looking at my eyes and studying my body language.
None of these versions of me is who I am today:
Photos from 2006-2012