SELLING MY SOUL FOR YOUR LOVE AND MONEY

(THE AGE of SELF- OBESSION & SELF-MANIFESTATION

- WHO AM I? WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?)

INSTRUCTIONS:

IN THE RED ROOM

1. There will be about 10,000 self-portraits of me posted in the room.

2. You are encouraged to take as many as you like off the walls, for whatever reason. But in exchange, you have to either

a. Put money into my PANDA BANK. It could be a penny, $20 bill.

b. Go into the video booth at the corner and record something about

LOVE for me

c. OR DO BOTH

IDEAS BEHIND THIS GAME:
Context. NOT CONTENTS.

With the affordable technology of consumer cameras, and the necessity of self-preservation, I am 99.9% sure of that 99.9% of the people I know have taken self-portraits of their own, or painted one.

While the controversy is being focus on self-obsessed younger generation updating their internet/cellphone presence with self-portraits daily, the strive for individuality has become a collective SAMENESS and even profanity, I start to reason with why there are still historical value for self-portraits being hung for MILLIONS dollars worth in prestige museums.

Now, I admit I am in love myself, but by no means that having 20,000 + self-portraits of myself scream narcissism. Why? REASON BEING that only less than 5% of these were ever meant to be shown in public, and ever been shown to anyone until now.
When you take photos for yourself and yourself only, what is the meaning of self-protraits? SELF-Help? OCD? Fear of other's subjectifications?

When you were surrounded by thousands of my self-portraits in one little room, when I am right next to you in the same facility, looking at all these tightly-cropped self-portraits of mine, devoid of any context, time and space, do you see part of me as of who you know in any of these? Which parts?
Can you associate with anything, any feeling? Why and HOW?