As a writer and photographer, much of my practice begins with autobiography, with a brutal kind of self-portraiture. I am greatly inspired by the writer Chris Kraus and her parafictional sexcapades in I Love Dick, as well as the self-portraits taken by the dying Hannah Wilke. I am obsessed by family, not in the abstract, but my own. I see most portraiture as lying somewhere at the intersection of family history and mental illness. My written work is consumed with image culture both real and imagined. In turn, my photographic practice is always linked to a narrative. In both instances the tragic is always playful, and the playful always comes with a dark caveat. Then again, sometimes things are simple: when I travel, I take pictures all the time.