My heart is beating, isn't it?

I invite you to delve into a computer-rendered interior of my own body. During a technological regime insistent on smoothing the imperfections of humaneness, this body of work depicts the impersonality of replication. You see cavernous gray spaces within the torso, head, and legs where organs, blood, and nerves would be. The images look in turn as familiar as a western American landscape and as haunting as an empty womb, calling into question the value of the American dream while it devalues human life in favor of computer driven technologies.