Making art always starts from a deeply personal place, embedding my own sexuality, lust, self-worth, and anxiety into these objects/creatures I create. I want to evoke emotions by hacking into a personal ick factor and probing the parts of myself that have the potential to be the most embarrassing. This desire to become more uninhibited drives me to create and helps me understand the hang-ups that I have. This makes me more honest with myself and with my work, providing a layer of substance to these ambiguous things I make.

Edgy and erotic humour, strange and queer, is always prevalent. BUT I also want a pathos for these things to be there. I am greatly interested in creating work that falls in this space between the uncomfortable (perverse, abject, revolting) and the infatuating (seductive, delicious, decadent). I feel this is both an awkward and deeply engaging space that enhances all the odd, funny, sexy, sad, uncanny, and whimsical moments that happen in my work.

I use these moments to critically engage the different aspects of societal angst that I find most interesting; consumption/over-indulgence, the continuing displacement of our perception of reality, sexual inhibition (especially in relation to homosexuality, fetish and kink culture), youthful apathy, normalcy, absurdity, the stigmas of mental illness, and queer identity to name a few. These are all things that personally affect my life and it's important that my artwork reflects these issues. 

Foaminess of foam, drip drops of colours, secretion of fluids, a shelter of textures to escape to. Transparent, translucent, transcendent. Glitter Glimmers. Fur Fuzzes. Hairs Shimmer. Light Buzzes. The smells of food, of decadence, of waste. Trash litters the ground and seeps into these amalgamations. Bits and pieces of bits of pieces assemble. Tumble. Scramble. Embody.

Each form in dialogue, in constant communication of something unknown. The undertones of which point to something specific. A constant state of FLUX. These creatures of their own accord, in their own language, misunderstood perhaps. Between two spaces. Between two ideas. A place in between ours and the other.

Signifiers of reality. Context. Clues. Piecing together forms. Organic shapes. Curved, cut, splayed, askew, ballooned, buttoned, poked, popped, shut, rounded, edged, whatnot. Figural, literally about figures. Or, seemingly so. It's hard to tell sometimes. I see bodies, limbs caressing the space. Consoling each other. Playing. Laughing. Fighting. Fucking. Embracing. A real creature feature.

Objects of their own perverse use. Queer. What to do with them: they have their purpose. Sex items, some of them. I assume. They behave oddly. Explicit in form and content, they repulse and attract. Familiar yet off. Get off, get on, get in, get out. Out. Very out. Shaped by their reverence for the uninhibited. Abject objects... hilariously so.