Dusky

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“the mask was a thing on its own, behind which jack hid, liberated from shame and self-consciousness.”

jack merridew remains a brutal reminder: seeing myself in elaborate masks and stifled tears, in guilt turned to rage, in shame turned to aggression.

my choice in portrayal of jack as blond rather than book-accurate is mainly in relation to my own sun-colored curls and songs sung in high keys. derived from the subconscious starvation of being “man enough,” these qualities are often my most insecurity-inducing. i see this mirrored in fair hair slicked black with mud and a soprano voice that cannot easily threaten. the effort to eradicate gentleness that is carved into your image is a futile battle.