B.A.S.
I want my work to be felt through the mouth—through the teeth, the tongue, the spine. It should tickle one vertebra at a time, tracing from the base of the skull to the coccyx. Psychic communion with the material world is essential to my practice. Every material is touched by hand. My fingernails are teeth; they gnash and knead the forms into something more visually consumable.
Pre-chewed food repels most—except the toothless. And it is precisely they whom I aim to feed: the mouths long separated from their bite, writhing lips starved for sensation. My work is gruel for the spiritually toothless, offered with a hunger to please.
My practice explores spirituality, synthetic life, ritual acts, and programmed consciousness. Themes of laughter as blasphemy and jars of worms emerge alongside digitally conjured gods and mythic machines. Jagged edges and open seams are pushed to the forefront, functioning as fantastic wounds—professing an everlasting, ecstatic kind of suffering.
I aim to freeze decomposition at the moment of transformation—where a thing is destroyed and given life in the same breath. Slobbery drips, toothy grins, skin stretched thin: these elements writhe between agony and delight. Pain, here, is a matter of perception. It is where intimacy and abjection meet.
