Somewhere in my early twenties, I began to do photo collages.
The pages from the magazines I’d oggled since I was a teenager became my medium and my muse.
Vogue and W, fashion’s big hitters were shredded to make my art.
And what I found was a deep resentment for what these magazines had helped to create.
A poor opinion of my body and an objectification of women in general.
While they seem light and immediately understandable, there’s an undertone of something more seriously unsettling about them.
Art angry. Art with purpose. Just art to art.
Click here to see the next batch of my collages.