This work is an assault on beauty. It is a cracked mirror reflecting back the sinking nausea of powerlessness. It is an unyielding attack on acceptable imager, an indictment on the brutalization of the vulnerable. It is intimacy with the looming threat of castration Overwhelming arousal and shame from sexual trauma are choked down and vomited upon virginal surfaces. The slick, putrid contents are carefully sorted through, preserved in petroleum jelly and stitched together into semen-soaked compositions the color of bruises. Sensual, delicate renditions of line and figure are presented in glaring contrast with vicious depictions of trauma. Deformations of the human form adulterate the carefully composed contours and negative spaces. Cryptic wound-symbols pervert the expectation of allegory by rejecting the requirement of meaning. These unsubtle and depraved narratives told sensitively through exacting technique both challenge and invite feelings of disgust. Each piece becomes a clenched fist in its refusal to be labeled as "heavy handed."
This is the art of suffering;
An inherent need to dismantle perceptions.
This is a sexual synæsthesthetic mania
where light and shadow taste like battery acid.
This is a ruined foundation fracturing violently.
As It smoulders in decay,
Each yawning fissure quietly whispers a promise
To nurture unimaginable beauty.
This is the wrenching horror
When you discover
That there is no such thing as “home.”