I did this painting in 1992, maybe. Back when I smoked cigarettes (unfortunately.) I hardly recognize myself in this painting. Then again, yes, I do.
I'm not going to apologize again for the smoking. We can get past that, can't we?
Because I like the way she looks so film noir. And like I'm not gonna take nuthin' from nobody. Or is it more of a melancholy lost in regretful thoughts moment? I paid my dues, now I want to sing the blues?
Or all of the above.
So reason #57 for doing self-portraits: to remember all the different parts of you that continue being you, even so many years after you've rolled your last cigarette.