Who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead?

Born during under the light of a full moon during the summer of 1997 in Ontario, Canada, the overall mood of the night would evidently be setting the stage for the rest of my life.

The parasocial, hyper-interactive landscape of the internet as it currently stands is, quite frankly, mildly terrifying to me at best (and not in the fun way). Getting eyes on your work is a fantastic thing, but being so accessible that your art becomes diluted & palatable is certainly not. I work from a place of knowing that my musings might be off-putting to some people and charging forward anyway because I owe myself that level of authenticity. While I fancy myself some sort of psuedo-creature of the night, I've spent enough time working with the general public to understand that (despite being naturally good at it⸺I expect nothing less, of course), it's not what fuels me. Self-indulgent bloody decadence makes my soul sing, and aren't we all entitled to a bit of hedonism in this life? Of course, part of the appeal of hosting on my work on this website vs. a more mainstream social media was the ability to retain some sort of distance between myself as a person and myself as a creator. I've cut my teeth on fiction, non-fiction, poetry, scriping, interactive work, zine making⸺you name it. I'm obsessed with creating a catalogue that's both all-encompassing and unmistakably mine. How will my words translate to a new genre? How will my art look in this medium? If it catches my eye, if it sparks something in me, I'm willing to throw my skills at anything. Perfection becomes dull when the work no longer connects with you.

Unsurprisngly, I enjoy spending my downtime consuming horror in the written form & straight-to-VHS-gorefests. I do most of my writing in an unassuming workspace surrounded by a beloved collection of wretched curios & fashion dolls, supported in all of my strange endeavours by my lovingly tolerant partner and our household's geriatric cat.