My self portrait was (obviously) majorly influenced by the themes of existentialism, surrealism, and the inevitability of death. At first, the portrait may seem a normal scene-disturbingly normal, in fact. This actually becomes the viewer's first subconscious hint that something is amiss. A mere, second-long, glance would not reveal the truth: that I am, in fact, resting upon a cake. But honestly, who knows if the truth as a concept even exists?

However, the whole unsettling, slightly subtle "truth" is still visible. Then again, who actually cares? Who will muster up enough interest to notice that my sleeping arrangements are a desperate cry for emotional, mental, and physical help? Who will take note of my depressed facial expression? Who, indeed, will even read these words? 

In the end (the very literal end, my friends), this lack of interest in the affairs of simple folk (e.g., me) becomes our downfall. This is evidenced by the encroaching darkness; not only in the portrait but in our souls. 

The second image features a snapshot of what my process was like in creating my self portrait. Clearly, chaos can only come from chaos.