bulk of my recent work is expressionist. In the past, it was more
realist and fashion oriented, but things change. I am no longer as
certain of my world as I once was, so the images that come out of me are
less concrete and more spiritual and emotional. Losing one's illusions
about the most important thing in one's life and a couple of near death
experiences will do that to a person. The physical world becomes
a mask that one tries to break through. My pickaxe is art.
told once by someone attempting to interpret my works, that they showed
a hatred for beautiful women. My answer was that I wish that were
so, and indeed I do. That would be nice and simple. The problem
is that I am a beautiful woman myself with no confidence problems or trouble
receiving compliments accordingly. It's just that I know in the end
how meaningless physical beauty is to more important things such as physical
safety. In fact, most of the life lessons I've had related to physical
beauty have been that a pretty face is a beacon for predators. On
its own in normal life where most people look fairly mundane, it is much
like the dead carcass of a wilderbeast laying in the tall grass.
my women are mutilated, twisted, and stretched. They are turned into
disposable items for someone else's pleasure, or torn open to reveal the
beauty or ugliness inside. Sometimes I, the artist acting as the
viewer, force them to show me what is in them and sometimes they give it
to me. Most of the time I am the artist, the viewer, and the subject.