In the current corporate capitalistic world, a standardized perfection is forced into us by a relentless cycle of self-improvement, treating each of us like a product that needs constant polishing to succeed in the market.
Any flaw (but truly, any difference) in our art, our bodies, or our lives- is seen as a failure, a sign we individuals didn't invest enough.
Choosing to show powerful imperfection and intentional ugliness is a deeply political act of refusal. By making raw, messy work, I boycot the system's mandate for a specific output to capitalise on.
This refusal claims freedom. It proves my value is already inherent by just being simply here, alive; it doesn't need to be earned or deserved by meeting some corporate standard. In a world obsessed with being flawless, embracing what the system would call "flaws" , for me, is a crucial duty.