It’s very easy to make pretty photographs, if you’re in one of the style centers. New York. London. Paris. There’s an entire industry at your disposal, pushing you to make it pretty. Booking agents wanting to send you new pretty faces every day. Makeup and hair stylists, set builders, fashion editors. Magazines and ad agencies want to see pretty, everybody wants to see pretty, and be pretty.
If you don’t want to do pretty you sit like a course rock in a fast moving stream. A bump on an otherwise perfect log. This pretty world is designed to wear down your imperfections. It will reward you if you surrender your ugly side, or at least bury it under enough pretty.
And if you were born into ugly, you wonder if this means you’ll no longer recognize yourself, amongst all this pretty. If you’ll ever fit in.
Anywhere.”
to couple with:
“ By the age of eight I had experienced at first hand such a numbing amount and so many varieties of violence that I was left with a choice between an invitation to death and the will to live. "
Grover Lewis, on growing up poor white trash
&
Gaspar Noe
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