Myths are stories. Very old stories. Stories that may have been true or true-ish. Take King Midas for example. King Midas is a mythical king from way back when who only wished for one thing: gold. He did what kings do and asked the Greek gods to grant for him that wish. They did. With his new power, he touched a knife and boom: gold. He touched a fork: solid gold. He touched everything he could and became the richest king ever. He called a feast to celebrate his new gold-touching status. This was a feast to remember complete with a long table, giant turkey leg and stuffed pig with and apple in its mouth. When Midas reached out to eat that turkey leg as soon as he touched it: gold.
This is a problem. Gold is hard to eat, even harder to digest and tastes terrible. Midas' only daughter saw how sad he was and gave him a hug to cheer him up. As soon as he touched her: solid gold daughter. The richest king ever, couldn't eat, killed the only family he cared about and starved to death. I know. Sad story. Or was it?
I have made a series of paintings to look at that same problem: becoming who you want to be and paying for it. Everybody has that problem. The large portraits intend to show how much contradiction there is and yet attempt to be beautiful.