Gender identity came up in my early work quite often. Part of me always identified with the male, leading me to feel an imposter syndrome as a female. Perhaps becasue my mother way such a strong figure, and I worshipped my older brother? I did have, still do have, many fears about my competence in some areas; while in others I have no hesitation and am bold.
I see in this drwaing my desire to blossom and hold an open heart. But also, the intellect and the editor inhibit me, poison me. Perhaps this is not so much a gender issue as a more general inability to have a voice in the world, to find the right soil to nurture my growth. I am sad that as a teenager, I couldn't find the right help with this, and resorted to alcohol and alternating wilding versus isolating.
I don't recall that I created much good art in high school. I was way-laid by social problems in adjusting to the move from Baltimore to Amherst and by family adjustments that led me to feel extremely isolated and abandoned.
In a few days, I will be visiting my high school teacher and her husband, and may find out things that I have forgotten. Trauma following the high school years, as well as substance abuse during those years, has affected my memory of those times. Whenever I meet someone from back then, I am amazed at their clear recall of what happened.
When I was sixteen, I moved into my own apartment and proceeded to self destruct at a rapid pace, and ended up dropping out of school and moving to Provincetown. These things did not result in art making. I was trying to find a place I could belong where I could find love and be known.