The notion of beauty has always fascinated me; my artwork tends to bleed rose petals, lace, and slivers of glass because of it. For a long time, this used to be an aesthetic I tried to avoid - it's so achingly feminine - but the urge to create in such a sickly-sweet manner has never abated. Thoughts of allurement, romance, and the chaos which inevitably follows such things plague my mind like ghosts. I've decided to start embracing them. The haunting is consensual.