I am an artist. I am afflicted. Somewhere along my strands of DNA lies a particular combination of chemicals that make this so: I can no sooner change it than I could change my height or eye color or the shape of my face or the sound of my voice. It is hardwired in my genes. It is who I am, it is who I will always be.

Within my photography I choose to find moments, things that make us the people we are. Things that happen that are so large, or so small… they change the way we are, who we are, or what we think… forever. I celebrate instance, emotion, and the human form in my art.

The human condition is growth and decay. People’s physicality have inspired me to confront the everyday sense of normalcy and decency. If intimacy wasn’t such a confining word, for me it may be represented as substance; emotional, sexual, and hideous.

I strive within the presentation of my photographs, that at last, I can humanize hurt, sex, and span the void between the unspeakable and the commonplace. Thus, dismantling a persons preconceived notions about what is “normal” sexuality and physical beauty.

I am becoming more interested in wound bruises, scars, and bodily fluids… the unconventional form. The body as a site of trauma. I want to seek out morgues, and insane asylums, the resulting photographs of which will be an elegant, haunting, and beautiful representation. A hideous beauty that is as compelling as it is taboo.