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When Perspective Looks Like a Mistake

View of my oil painting with title Tootsies. A woman showing her feet in perspective.

There is a particular kind of comment that returns again and again under one of my paintings.

“This is AI.”

“The hands are wrong.”

“There are missing fingers.”

It always sounds confident.

And it is always wrong.

Not because the comment is malicious, but because it reveals something more interesting than error.

It reveals how rarely we are asked to truly look.


The problem is not anatomy

The painting in question, Tootsies, is figurative. Extremely so. There is no abstraction to hide behind. No symbolic fog. Just a body, pushed close, in extreme perspective.

The model is lying on the floor.The hands are open.The index fingers are extended and resting flat against the surface.

From that angle, they disappear.

Nothing is missing. Nothing is incorrect. Nothing is generated.

This is not a technical mistake. It is a perceptual one.


Close-up detail of Hands in the oil painting with title Tootsies.

When perspective stops being polite

Most figurative images confirm what we already expect to see.

Perspective behaves. Foreshortening stays within comfortable limits. The body reassures us that we understand it.

But perspective, when pushed far enough, stops confirming. It displaces.

It asks the viewer to adjust position. To slow down. To accept that the image does not exist for instant recognition.

At that point, many people don’t reconsider their viewpoint. They assume error.

When perspective works properly, it often looks wrong to those who expect certainty rather than adjustment.

Figurative does not mean self-explanatory

There is a persistent belief that figurative painting does not require interpretation.

You see the body. You recognize the parts. So the reading must be obvious.

In reality, figurative painting often demands more from the viewer, not less. Because recognizability creates confidence, and confidence short-circuits attention.

What is taken for a mistake is often simply the refusal of the image to behave like a photograph.

A painting is not obliged to confirm your position in space. Sometimes it insists that you move.

Why the AI accusation is revealing

There is a quiet irony in being told that a painting is “AI” because of perspective.

Artificial images routinely fail at anatomy and foreshortening. They collapse under precisely the kind of spatial tension this painting sustains.

Yet the accusation persists.

Not because the image resembles AI but because the viewer has been trained to distrust anything that resists immediate decoding.

The problem is not that the image looks artificial. It is that careful looking has become optional.


About eroticism (and why this is not about that)

I’ve written elsewhere about eroticism, desire, and why this subject attracted me in the first place. That text still stands.

This article is not about erotic content. It is about visual responsibility.

Eroticism does not excuse laziness in looking. Nor does it require explanation to justify itself.

What matters here is not what the image suggests, but how it asks to be seen.


What this painting asks from the viewer

Very little, actually.

Time. Attention. A willingness to accept that seeing is an active process.

You don’t need to like the image.

You don’t need to feel comfortable with it.

You don’t even need to understand it immediately.

You just need to look long enough for your certainty to loosen.

That is where paintings begin to work.


A final note

I no longer explain this painting in comment sections.

Not out of arrogance.

Out of respect.

Respect for the work.

And for the viewer’s ability to arrive somewhere on their own, if they choose to stay.


The original painting of "Tootsies" is not longer available for sale.

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