Often, I think about the work and who it may affect, wincing at the thought of subjection. But still, in the distinctive way I’ve chosen to convey the body and embrace this lewdness, I fantasize about a body that stirs, arches in pain, then misfiles it; where memories slip, where responsibilities loosen, where my thighs remember they are not meant to hold up a house,

I am a girl, not a home. I don’t feel a sense of ownership toward the figures in my work. Instead, she is my surrogate, standing in for personal moments while remaining entirely detached. This contradiction is exploited through wrapping, bending, binding, and wearing fibers and industrial material that frame eroticism as both refuge and fracture. Pleasure functions as a principle shaping both my material decisions and my engagement with theories of expenditure.