why matte?

this one's less asked than the mouth, but it comes up — people notice there's no shine anywhere on him, not on the head, not on the arms, not even where light hits him straight on. it's not an unfinished surface. it's the finished one.

a shine asks to be looked at

gloss catches light and throws it back at you. your eye goes to the glint before it goes to anything else — the object announces itself first, whatever it actually is comes second. blumo was never supposed to announce himself. matte doesn't compete for attention. it just sits there, and you get to decide when to look.

no mirror

stand something glossy near a window and you'll see a little of the window in it, a little of the room, a little of yourself. gloss always hands something back. matte doesn't reflect anything — it absorbs the light and stays what it is. nothing bounces off him. nothing comes back at you except him.

a surface that stays still

light on a glossy object moves when you move — it performs a little, depending on the angle. matte reads the same in every light, from every side. it doesn't shift to flatter the room it's in.

the eyes are still the only thing on him that seems to move the way you'd expect. the rest of him just stays.