Found 07/2011, Goodwill (2222 and Lamar)

A nearly platonic example of the “nobody understands me” trope, cornerstone of the high school experience. If the artist had simply created a tragic self-portrait, (Sorrow) would be a much less rich experience. Here, the the subject is devoid of color and saturation, a hollow figure instead of a human. Yet the world she inhabits is surprisingly lush, with rich green forest and gentle hills, an idyllic little woodland clearing. The subject is truly an outsider, not even a part of the creation she inhabits. How could her parents and school understand her when she is so clearly of another world, of a completely different manufacture?

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