I am fascinated by the notion of beauty. My artwork tends to bleed rose petals and lace and slivers of glass because of it. It used to be an aesthetic I tried to avoid - it's so feminine - but the urge to create in this sickly-sweet manner has never abated. Despite my best efforts, thoughts of beauty, romance, and the fleeting chaos of such things follow me around like less than pleasant ghosts. I've decided to start embracing them. The haunting is consensual.