Photographer: Cindy Sherman

I first learned about Cindy Sherman in the prime of my narcissism. College, sophomore year. In my afternoon History Of Photography class I sat in the dark room in the library while Mr. So-And-So flicked through the slides we were expected to memorize, or at the very least, appreciate.

I achieved both with Cindy, a woman who secured herself in art history with a collection of transformative self-portaits. What made her do it? Why was it so revolutionary? Why turn the camera on yourself?

We take photos of our friends. We take photos of our pets. We take photos of old homes we used to live in. And when we look back at these images, we search for moments of who we used to be, and how we chose to live. We all want to be remembered. We all want to know what we really look like.

Sometimes I go on tangents with my art, and get fixated on a new style, a new approach. Sometimes I have an instinct that there is something I'm supposed to learn. Last summer it was watercolors. This summer it's the self portrait.

Movie stars are photographed all the time. They are captured in different light, with different expressions, alongside different people. Each image defines them for us, and we stare and accept the story the image tells.

People take photographs of us, and we respond by saying, "I don't like myself in pictures." Why is that? Is it because we don't know how to pose? Is it because we don't know what we look like? Is it because we don't like what we see? Sherman challenge that. She finds herself through her work. She controls the button. She decides what she will look like.

Thinking of her work, I have to tell you, it's pushed me along in my own photography. It's daunting, to make yourself the subject. It's embarrassing, to indulge self-importance. It's also freeing.

To secure yourself in history, you have to tell your own story.