A Persistent Affinity

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  A Persistent Affinity | 2016

We strive for a kind of “improvement” of ourselves, a necessary change to obtain a higher capacity, understanding, or power. However, the change requires not only an obtainment, but also a forfeit. The awkward creature in “Persistent Affinity” has an old synthetic stuffed animal annexed to its side. It is dear, but carries with it all the old, preexisting, decrepit, but loved. The appendix of the past is a rearward pull, which burdens the capacity for renewed reevaluation. Because of its lack of courage for self-inflicted surgery, the creature has cut out of paper a representation of itself, the scissors are evident in its right hand, following the outline of its own image, but idealized, with the animal cut out of it. The two dimensional ideal, however, is only topical and unmistakably flat, an inadequate attempt. Of course the creature creating a portrait of itself is itself a self-portrait.