We Were Never The Same Twice

Franz Kafka famously wrote: “I was ashamed of myself when I realised that life was a costume party, and I attended with my real face.” But what if the problem exists not in being yourself, but in how you must perform to be celebrated? This triptych is rooted in that question. As an artist and commuter in London, I’ve become increasingly aware of how identity is curated in public spaces: how the performance of disinterest, detachment, and social neutrality becomes a form of conformity and disconnection, especially in transit. 

I was prompted to argue against the emotional sameness of social performance and advocate instead for radical individuality. It depicts commuters in a state of inertia, in the liminal space between one stop and another. Each figure wears an outwardly composed mask which is interrupted by ribbons of colour. Ribbons are symbols of celebration, tradition and connection. This presents an argument that this individuality is not only something that brings joy but is something that is part of our DNA: a personal rhythm that deserves to be honoured. 

I wanted the painting to tell a story of how we can use tradition not as a tool of limitation, but to uncover uniqueness, to reinvent our perception of ourselves and others. The buttoned-up blouse, a classic style that signals professionalism, conformity, and is commonplace in the morning commute, becomes a receptacle for change. Though these universal places, attitudes and styles are limiting, they also connect us in that limitation, offering the possibility of moments to empathise and meet each other as we are. Where the ribbons clash with the passengers, a part of them is enlivened, cut through, and opened. Ultimately, this piece is about tension: between inner truth and outer behaviour, between public and private. It’s about what happens when we try to move through the world as ourselves, and how hard that is to do.