Often, I think about the work and who it may affect. I feel bad for those who know and care for me, cringing at the thought of my subjection. Still, in the distinctive way I’ve chosen to convey the body and embrace this lewdness, I know they aren’t ignorant of the truth that my image, the image of my sisters, mothers, women, and other female-presenting people, is already tainted and violated, no matter how much is or isn’t revealed. Whether intentional or not, everything violates me. I don’t feel a sense of ownership toward the figures in my work. Instead, she is my surrogate, standing in for personal moments, yet entirely detached.