When I switched from goblin portraits to (photo-realistic) self-portraits, I meant it to be an evolution. No more hiding behind the goblin, I told myself; it’s time to step out of my comfort zone, and wear some weird shit
But of course, the more I forced the idea, the more I found myself dressing in nothing but black jeans and t-shirts and sneakers. And no wonder, because by retiring the goblin I was, in fact, retiring my capacity for adventure. Frankly, I’m ashamed! It’s like life and art have taught me nothing. The goblin was never impeding my braver, weirder, colour-clashing self; it is my braver, weirder, colour-clashing self (and my greedy self, and my hoarding self, and my no-sharing, go-away self, etc.)
So the goblin has thrust its way back in, as it was bound to do sooner or later. Can’t live with it, can’t live without it. Maybe now we’ll have some proper, ridiculous outfit posts.
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