Julian

“Clothes maketh the man.” Hamlet. “Woe is me for I am undone” Isaiah.

I have always worn jackets and coats, hats, scarves and gloves – both to address the weather and as personal expression. Eventually glasses became a necessity, offering further opportunity to make a statement. As the scruffy student beard evolved into a bristling chestnut moustache, growing self-awareness suggested that all this external paraphernalia had dichotomous value: it served to both conceal and attract.

My yearning for connection and acceptance contrasts with an educated and over-analysed understanding of my many flaws. Better to be merely glanced at and acknowledged than revealed to the judgement of the world.

“For the thing I feared has come upon me.” Job. The challenge of exposing my torso for the withered arm, excess adipose tissue and sundry blemishes to be captured, digitised and broadcast was a challenge too great to resist for my masochistic soul.

And so, on a day when a polar blast has hit the country, I disrobe in a small studio near Long Bay – with a boisterous black dog wagging its tail and thrusting between my legs. A Churchillian black dog has been a persistent companion since adolescence. Hidden from the camera, the dog’s presence evokes a sense of protective familiarity and muscular demand for attention.
Julian Cowey