Could a painting turn its back on you before you turn your back on it? Slumping, hunching, wiggling, and wrinkled, my paintings masquerade as bodies, maintaining their own agency. Amorphous structures contort under the weight of the world—bending forms or sagging canvases buckle and fold, unable to remain upright against the wall. Serious, mocking, frivolous, and optimistic, they are both nervous and content in their ambiguity. Oscillating enthusiastically between artworks and everyday objects, my works operate simultaneously as paintings and pairs of pants, pillowcases, couch cushions, or tile floors—they are unresolved, fluctuating in their disposition.