Frances Wasn't a Saint
2018 - 2019
Through attempts at self-portraiture, I inadvertently summoned a visitant. Her name is Frances. She is not a persona, nor is she my alter-ego. Frances is a ghost; visiting often, she seeks form through possession. I allow her to inhabit me, to guide me in making us a world within a world, creating environments to contemplate the horror of manufactured desire and the beauty of imagined futures. In these worlds, we come up against the terror and brutal beauty embedded in myths of purity. Together, we float in and out of consciousness, knowing the “childhood terror of the written-upon body.” Together we confront the male gaze, a gaze fraught with violence.