How does my practice unfurl?

It cascades out, decidedly homosexual – a stew of pearls and fur, heraldry, hands and handiwork, studded belts and garlands of flowers. It comes on as a landslide of opulent trash, of paisley and pinecones, a disheveled post-inaugural report back from the Pleasure Dome. The decadence of the bouquet is intentional; it is a doorway to a realm of the fantastical, excessive, sexual and sad – a phantasmagoria that exists in the context of radical queer wit, history, and politics. As a transsexual and feminist, I am concerned with the content of my work conveying the inexplicable and transcendent aspect of sexuality that goes beyond gender and genitalia, where touch and contact are encompassing and fluid. As an artist and activist, I am interested in the abstraction and reorganization of language and landscape around concomitant ideas of community and autonomy. Fueled by a taste for utopian thinking, complications abound, combine and compound into drawing and performance work negotiating the coexistence of radiating love and searing fury in the gay psyche.