I’ve been thinking about using myself as a canvas. If there is a place beyond self-centeredness where depicting yourself can become universal. How arrogant it is, to believe that we can represent anything without filtering it through our own eyes – and therefore, how a self-portrait is honest. But also: How fucking pretentious to consider my photos of knitwear as anything but ambitious selfies.
I don’t know. Struggling with the reflexivity section in my thesis, and then moving to a new country, being around new people constantly, being forced to introduce myself again and again has made me rather sick of myself. I feel unsure about what to do about future internet presence.
But also: I can’t help myself. This is how I write. And writing is how I make sense. Without it, directionlessness.
Written in August 2022
Katja Malmborg 