Self Portrait (2026)

This self-portrait marks an uneasy beginning rather than a declaration. Cox does not present herself as resolved, symbolic, or idealised; instead, she paints from a position of reluctance. The work exists because looking became unavoidable.

The figure is turned slightly inward, eyes lowered, as if caught mid-thought rather than posing. There is no theatrical gesture, no narrative device to hide behind. The palette remains restrained and muted, drawing attention to subtle shifts in skin tone, weight, and shadow. Chiaroscuro is not used to dramatise the face, but to soften its edges, allowing parts of the self to recede where they are hardest to hold.

For Cox, the act of self-portraiture is not an exercise in self-love, but in endurance. After years of seeing her body defined by trauma, scrutiny, and external interpretation, looking directly at herself feels confrontational, even threatening. This painting is shaped by that resistance. The discomfort is not resolved; it is preserved.

The gaze avoids the viewer, refusing both confession and invitation. This refusal becomes the core of the work. Rather than asking to be seen, the figure insists on being left in her own interiority, whole, opaque, and non-performative. What emerges is not self-clarity, but self-presence.