These craftily composed photos hint at noirish scenarios involving a seductively faceless pale-fleshed woman. Is she an innocent, stalked by the camera but ready to fight for her life? Or does the softness of light inside hard black space set a trap that our need for context inexorably pulls us towards?

These paintings extort an uneasy narcotic beauty from sensations of stasis and detachment. Familiar shapes and applications are reconfigured into vacuously seductive patterns and surfaces, inducing the chilly swoon of a Xanax overdose in a Santa Monica swimming pool.