Adam & Eve

Bridget Mac

From Washington DC...

Dear A&E

Three years ago I photographed my first self-portrait. I was 23. The night before I was to go into the studio I went out to some warehouse party with my friends. I got so drunk that I ended up in my best friends bed not knowing where I was. Apparently I had passed out and was sick everywhere. I felt awful, however I had to take my portrait that day. I arrived at Sun Studios in Sydney probably looking like a complete mess and smelling worse. It took me about 2 hours to set up the shot and to take the photograph I was to use.

My original idea behind this first self-portrait was to do something strong. I was looking through some of my books for inspiration and came across Helmut Newton's Big Nudes. I'd remembered seeing this exhibition in New York when I was 16 and being totally blown away. I had never seen women depicted in art like that before. I was sick of seeing the woman painted, reclining back on some kind of couch, giving herself to the male artist. There was no other scene that I felt detached from. I decided then and there that I would recreate one of the Helmut Newton Big Nudes with myself as the strong naked figure.

Shooting this portrait initially I was unsure about the way I felt, how would people perceive me? Am I just ripping off something that someone has already done? By the time I had finished, recovered from my hangover and had another look at the images I was really into the idea of self-portraiture and trying to look at myself from a totally different perspective - like when you have an out of body experience.

I was never one of those girls who always looked at themselves in the mirror, not because I didn't like what I saw, just because I never gave it the time. There are always more pressing things to do. This made it interesting to see my face on my computer screen when I had to re-touch the dust off the image. Actually it was not only my face I was looking at zoomed in, but my crotch, breasts and everything in between, giving me another moment of sobriety. Do I really want people to see my pubic hairs, scars on my legs and the size and shape of my nipples? Are people even interested? I thought the answer was yes. This is one reason why I have never re-touched out anything 'natural' in my self-portraits. I have always left all the pimples and scars. The image is a portrait from that particular time, these things add to a timeline of such. In my opinion taking them out would be like lying. I've always wanted my photographs to be as honest as possible.

The next year I decided to do a second self-portrait. For the previous two years I had been pretty confused about my sexual preference. Experimenting like most people my age, sleeping with the opposite and same sex, sometimes at the same time. Mostly I was seriously trying to figure out what I wanted.

When I was a young girl in primary school I had this conversion with a friend - I'm sure she thought I was weird. I was telling her that I thought I was born a boy and that my parents had been secretly taking me to the hospital to get a sex change while I was asleep. I was totally paranoid at the time that I wasn't developing quickly enough like the other girls. Some girls had already started growing breasts and I was so completely flat chested. This idea of what makes a woman look like a woman and a man look like a man influenced this second self-portrait. The image works on the idea that every person has a masculine and a feminine side to their face, when split in two and put back together you achieve two symmetrical identities. One will be your female and one will be your male.

This image represents my struggle with my personal identity. It is also the image that I was awarded a prize and money for. The money helping me move from Sydney to Berlin for a year.

The move to Berlin was totally un-researched - not on purpose, just because I was too idle and thought that everything would just fall into place. I got my visa and left Australia. I had no friends in Berlin and I didn't even organise a place to stay once I arrived. I had a moment on the way over at Bangkok airport when I asked myself "What the fuck am I doing?" Jumping in the deep end. I was on the verge of crying. Then I thought, what is a trip overseas if you have no stories to tell at the end? I've always had an idea of life experience being more valuable than any course you can do at university or anything you can learn from a textbook.

The moment that brought me to my third and final self-portrait was a combination of love and loss. I had been in Berlin for four or five months. During this time I met Piers who is now my husband. Unexpectedly in early January I found out I was pregnant. It was a shock but also amazing, we decided that we would keep the baby. Seven weeks into the pregnancy I had a miscarriage and the baby slid out of me while I was on the toilet. It was horrible to think of a life that we were so excited by not getting a chance to be loved.

A few weeks after this we went out to a nightclub called Berghain. We wanted to take our minds off what had happened and the winter that trudged on forever. For a small amount of money we found someone who sold us a bag of mdma. We didn't stay at the club for very long, opting to go home, talk and finish the drug. When we arrived home I was restless and decided that I wanted to document myself in the moment. I got my camera on a tripod sat back and used a stick to press the shutter button. The photo I ended up with was a quiet image where I look like I'm falling into the background - losing myself in the moment. After I packed the camera away I had one of the most beautiful nights I have ever had in this city.

These three portraits were selected for a group exhibition in Washington DC at a gallery called Heiner Contemporary in July 2011. I was excited to see the three portraits together as they had only been shown separately in the past. One thing I noticed while I was in DC for the exhibition, which I hadn't realised before, was the transition between the three portraits. Within these three years of my life, the way I depicted myself changed significantly. It was beautiful to think how many things had changed and to have the evidence of these changes on the wall for the public to see.

Life has changed forever for me now and although I'm not anticipating the next self-portrait I am intrigued by what the portrait might reveal.