the collision of new motherhood, pandemic isolation, and insanity-producing boredom; these pictures were taken frantically during elusive naps, or late at night while no one was awake and needing me. i explored the textures and colors of things around me--including my own body, food, flowers, and old clothes i no longer wore--in the simple pursuit of a hearty laugh or a satisfying juxtaposition of tones; but also to forget about and disassociate 

somewhat from the reality and heaviness of the time. 

in 2023 i find myself asking whether it's ok to make images like this in the face of global crisis. are these the images the world needed or needs? does the answer matter?

and if it doesn't...what does that say about image making as a whole?

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