Portraits
Portraits is a series of paintings I created while processing an altered state of consciousness I’ve come to describe as “ego death.” I use this term not for dramatic effect, but because it closely describes the experience and has helped me connect with others who’ve gone through something similar.
During the first semester of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, I was isolated, anxious, and looking for structure. My first year of college was fully remote, and I became drawn to belief systems that promised control over perception and emotion. I began studying and practicing meditation techniques from an occult group called The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, hoping to change the way I experienced the world.
After several weeks of meditating for hours each day, I experienced a sudden and intense shift. The internal voice I identified with disappeared. For three days, I had no thoughts, anxiety, and no sense of individual self. I was fully absorbed in sensation, without need or desire. I have been told by some that the experience was a glimpse of enlightenment, and by others, deep dissociation. A professor I spoke to who teaches at Brown described it as both.
After the experience, I began to question the concept of self entirely. I became convinced that my identity was the cause of my suffering and felt guilt for not being able to maintain that detached state. This series reflects how I worked through that belief.
The first painting, “My Thoughts on ‘I’ and It,” shows a fragmented version of myself. There is a collapsing ego represented by multiple overlapping faces and a crumbling figure. Above it floats a detached version of “me,” idealized and stylized to reflect how I saw that ego-less state at the time. All the figures are versions of myself, organized around a false dichotomy I no longer believe in.
The second painting, “Self-Portrait,” depicts an abstract crying figure inside a sun-like aura. The figure vaguely resembles me and was created as an attempt to rebuild a sense of identity after everything familiar fell away.
The third work, “Losing Form,” shows a crouched, deteriorating figure with stark white eyes. The interior is chaotic, filled with swirling lines that reflect the breakdown of my self-concept and the loss of structure I felt at the time.
Each painting was created with a mix of materials including spackle, string, hot glue, acrylic paint, markers, salt, and oil pastels. I scratched through the surface with needles to reveal earlier layers, aiming to create a weathered, eroded texture that removes the appearance of the artist’s hand and gives the work a more natural, decayed feeling.
At the time, I believed detachment and ego loss were the keys to peace. I now see things differently. I believe that attachment is what gives my life meaning. Life is not about avoiding pain, but choosing what’s worth caring about. Identity, emotion, and connection are no longer things I view as obstacles. I see the “higher self” not as something to permanently become, but as the endpoint of a game I want to keep playing. In hindsight, the experience gave me a kind of clarity and purpose I didn’t realize I needed.