My paintings sing Rock-and-Roll with praise and distrust—they indulge the fantasy of superstardom while subsequently warning against the dangers of privilege. In my paintings, both spectators and rockers reimagine themselves as misanthropic antiheroes in their own narratives. But their indulgence betrays their stories as fragmented and anxious—they are star-struck, delusional, and entirely too eager to sacrifice themselves at the hyper-masculine alter. As stand-ins for the pangs of youth, or for egotistical death throes, the figures act out their entitlement brashly and clumsily. They loudly rally against the power they secretly long for; they protest the heroic caricatures they actually embody. Consumed by the rituals of violent dancing, both the desperate cartoons and worshippers knot themselves into a new body of belonging.
