The world isn’t pretty. It never was. And if you think we’ve moved past the problems that punk bands screamed about decades ago, you haven’t been paying attention. War, greed, oppression, censorship—different faces, same disease. Society loves to act like things have changed, but underneath the polished surface, the same filth festers.
I take song titles like battle cries and turn them into images. Every image is a confrontation—a punch to the gut, a pointed finger, a reflection of the world behind the carefully curated illusion.
Sex. Rebellion. Power. Control. The things we pretend don’t shape us, yet rule every aspect of our lives. Eroticism and nudity aren’t just about desire; they’re about ownership—of bodies, of narratives, of freedom. Why do we celebrate violence but censor skin? Why is control disguised as morality? Who benefits from your shame?
You want safe? You want comfort? Look somewhere else.
