I am learning to embrace the uncomfortable, to revel in the tension, to create in the unrest. Continuing the direction of discoloration and distortion of flesh, I chose to chase this idea of disturbance down a similarly violent but more relatable path by photographing my least favorite part of me, my feet, and use them to my advantage.

The reception of last week's flesh series was mixed yet motivating. The reaction was much more involved than I expected, though I knew I was catching on to something powerful. This week, I planned on shooting with a model, partly by my own curiosity partly per the suggestion of my instructor, but things fell through. I caught myself repeating ideas. I decided to take the weekend to think about it.

After photographing in New Hampshire for ten hours this weekend, for the first time ever, I could say that I was literally sore from my work. Inspired by my pathetically aching feet, I was motivated to depict the act of stretching. Pointed toes are typically seen as a convention of womanhood–graceful and light–but when looking a bit closer, it's clear that the act is as deformed as the flex. Pools of blood under layers of skin, tightly strained tendons and the gathering of bones further push the idea of bodily limitations. The human looks alien. The poise, repulsive. The body, misshapen.