I direct models to cover their entire body with food, and then photograph the fusion between their bodies and the food substance. Plastered peanut butter, greasy butter, and smooth, glistening nacho cheese covers torsos revealing only a sliver of flesh, a clue that there is a human being behind the thick, lavish material. Neither a solid nor a liquid, peanut butter piles up on top of itself while flowing over the figure. Though the bulging, lumpy, abrasive peanut butter surface on the body suggests disease, its form is also sensual and compelling.
The excessive quantity of Marshmallow Fluff created a fantasy world, made out of white, thick, sticky, heavy material, intertwining bodies as it pulls and prods them in numerous positions. The photographs depict a state where whatever you touch or lick becomes a part of you, and there is little distinction between subject and background and between human and environment. This massive amount overwhelms the model as well as the viewer and can be frightening and intimidating, as well as comforting and protective.
We are not supposed to rub food over our naked bodies. Food should enter our mouths for digestion and nourishment, not as decoration, clothing, or play material. The act of transforming food into something inedible fascinates me because it creates a delusion that parallels my own relationship with food. For me, food is a mirage that promises comfort, may or may not provide nutrition, and becomes an obstacle in trying to maintain my weight.
