Nothing here was made to last. Drawings started in 1999, cut apart, stitched back together, and reworked over the years since, some as recently as 2025. Faces and figures pulled from catalogs and off the television screen, images that were already selling something before I ever touched them, forced consumerism, false ideals of beauty, sex and youth used as weapons, the same undercurrent that runs through the figurative work elsewhere. There's a current of martyrdom and devotion running under the surface too, without ever landing on a specific story. Each piece is a moment, not a finished thought, and the whole only exists because none of the parts were precious enough to throw away. As with all of it, I'd rather the viewer complete the story than have me hand it to them.