breakfast in fascist america

This series came to fruition in the strangest circumstances; a few fateful and absurd events inspired this body of work. On the day after this past election day, it felt as if I had woken up on a new planet, in a new America -- in the worst way possible. And everything in my life that morning seemed to be responding to that visceral and foreign reality. After my usual morning poop, my toilet refused to flush -- for the first time ever since I had moved into my apartment. After that was resolved, I went to my kitchen to make breakfast. I was running late, and chose to slam down my cup of black, black coffee. Before finishing, I stopped a moment to look at my breakfast.

I thought to myself, "This is the first breakfast that I eat in fascist America."

With that comforting thought, I imagined a large imposing hand barging into my kitchen and pulverizing my waffles and coffee into the counter.

I returned to my bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. As I was scrubbing my tongue, my toothbrush slammed into the back of my throat and I vomited coffee into the sink. It felt (and I do believe it to be true) as if my body were actively rejecting the new presidency and the decisions and changes that would come with it.

The events of that morning were the stimulus that formed this body of work -- a series of five collages, made from gelatin silver prints and nylon thread that were shot, developed, printed, assembled and displayed in one grueling week in December 2016.