Flanked by solitary Fallen Angels, each subsequent painting presents a fetish angel - darkly clad in tattoos and piercings, more beautiful for all their androgyny; and a mortal in some passionate emotional state. They are the muses of our joy and our pain.
Sorrow - Dec 1998
Comfort - July 1998
Early version of Comfort
Devotion - Jan 1999
Obsession - Dec 1998
Fallen - July 1998
Fallen detail
Strength -    May 1999
Regret #1 - 1999
Regret #2 - 1999
She had a talent that could drive the coolest, calmest soul to insanity. She dipped a silken bush in pools of color and stroked a barren canvas with the acuteness of a surgeon, the eye of a predator. And in the swirls of oil and water that hovered in her pictures, something was born. An infant that no one could catch sight of, a cherub that flew off the edge of every rainbow in the world, a color that none had ever seen before. Try to describe a color to a person blind from birth, try to make them see it. That is a prescription for lunacy, and that is how she painted. The faces she immortalized over and over again like white orchids in a field of roses, the eyes shone blue and brown and green and colors that could not exist. A color no one could explain, and so everyone that viewed her works of art felt alone and violated, yet darkly satisfied, as if they had been raped by a phantom. ~ Ty