People Who Love and People Who Hate

Meg Stoios, 2022, Oil on canvas, 81.5 x 106.5cm

$3,100

Written response to People who Love and People who Hate

By Bunny Ryou (model – central figure)

It was a long time before I realised there was a mirror there. Sort of covered in a dusty, grimy tarp. It was of no use. It did not guide me to the creek behind the playground. It was of no interest! It produced no sound. It certainly did not help me feel the breeze - brushing my hair as I rode the red bike with a set of training wheels, going too fast down the hill. As my knee hit the pavement a tear came out but I didn't cry.

One day, a stranger came up and pointed a sword at me.

They resembled the statue of liberty, but only paler. They shouted, “Look into the mirror. That hideous image tells the absolute truth. You are not to argue as the sword I wield is mighty and just.”

I felt a pang in my heart, as if I was skewered. Ready to be consumed. Every cell in my body squirmed, spelling ‘?’(a question mark). Took a deep breath in and never out.

As I struggle to stand straight, taken by their righteousness, I saw the tarp unveil. The words did not escape my lips, it was the reflection that was branded.

The voice trembled ever so slightly. If you didn't listen closely, you would have missed it. Even louder than before, it filled the vast emptiness, “You are less than us! And we are many. And we never. Ever. EVER! Make mistakes.” I couldn't tell if it was excitement or anxiousness that I sensed.

And the sudden, deafening silence cut the thin air in half and I seem to dissipate into the void. Nothing existed but the mirror and I. The voice exited to the right…

I stared into the eye beyond the cold surface. It stared back in confusion. The reflection could not tell that I was it, but it wasn't me. It failed to recognise that the mirror was made by the voice, and the image, with it.

The mirror figure fermented the message from the voice. It incubated with the utmost care. It grew like onions without any spring left. The vine escaped the boundary and like the gentle rain, it surrounded me.