I aim to articulate a dispersed subjectivity and forensic aspect to my work. I often make a cameo in my work, similarly to how Alfred Hitchcock was interested in young blondes and wanted to be in close proximity to them, or Woody Allen living out his deplorable fantasies by appearing in this movies and playing, well, himself. There lies a certain perverseness in the desire for proximity to the fantasy, utilizing the self as a vehicle of desire. It, the art, thus becomes an auto-fiction rather than say, a dream. Similarly to how Chris Kraus weaves in and out of the real and the imagined narrative in her book Aliens and Anorexia from 2000. The plot, surrounding the making of her own low budget indie film from 1996, 'Gravity and Grace' Kraus deals with real life events as well as imagined ones. She deals in proximities to the truth, and by doing so she reaches something far closer to experienced time and space than if only sticking to facts. “Face it Gravity, your work just isn't shitty enough. It's illustrative of the peripheral conditions of shit.”13 The images I create, too deal in proximities, at first glance a surreal rendering of reality, but I'd like to argue for a Baconesque, radical realism regulated by the nervous system, rather than association. This is how I remember it. This is how it happened to me. It is a narcissistic direct translation of experience, leaning up against the European tradition of rendering the self and its surroundings a la Munch and Schiele. More recently, Louise Bourgeois and Ida Applebroog. A clinical dialysis takes place in the making of: I slowly pour the liquid imagery from my brain onto the flat surface, and in return I reach a better comprehension of something that seems to me chaotic and happenstantial. Francis Bacon said about his paintings that: “I'm just trying to make images as accurately off my nervous system as I can. I don't even know what half of them mean. I'm not saying anything.”