Self portraits are kind of the bane of my existence. You'd think they'd be simple--whose face do you know better than your own, right?
Ha. Ha ha ha.
I've learned the hard way that they are anything but simple, and have some extremely hideous testaments to this fact tucked away in my portfolio. (Note to self: Why haven't I burned those yet?)
Any critiques about self portraits are going to either slam your personal appearance, or your drawing ability...or, better yet, both. Add to the fact that this one, my current WIP (Work In Progress--familiarize yourself with this term, as I plan on using it a lot), is in oil (my oil painting skills are still sorely lacking) and you'd best tread lightly. Take for example, the other night (Thursday, I think) when I showed it to my sister, Courtney.
Actually this one wasn't looking too horrid--I had prepared for the worst. The expression was kind of dead, as was my sister's (she's had to work some crazy hours lately, so she was sitting there on the couch looking zombie-like) so I joked that it looked like her--but not as pretty (you know, gotta throw in a compliment to soften her up). To which she said, "Well, it's not hard to look prettier than that."
"It's a self portrait!" I cried.
Then she said it looked like I had a mustache. Sigh. So, basically, I'm ugly and I have facial hair. What would I do without my family?
I've worked on that painting some more and it's looking much better (and hopefully mustache-free), though I'm still not ready to call it done. These do you absolutely no good if you don't know what I look like, of course.