Twisted Into Shape

Twisted into shape.

Somewhere between childhood and “be normal,”
the original design got replaced with a balloon dog.

Parents twisted one part.
School tightened another.
Fear did the finishing touches.

And honestly?
The trick worked.

Functional. Likeable. Socially displayable.

But the weird feeling never left:
Was this actually me, or just the shape that got applause?

This painting is about the awkward archaeology of personality.
Trying to figure out which parts are character…
and which parts are just emotional origami.

Turns out “finding yourself” mostly means slowly untwisting things.

Carefully.
Before they pop.

Acryl on canvas 60x60cm.