At some point last summer, I was inside the photoshop, I was zoomed way in on someone's shoulder, smoothing out their lumpen seams, and imagining I was a tiny skier sliding down a mountain... I've removed the same freckles from the same model so many times that when I saw her on the train (irl), I blushed and had to look away.
The work I do allows your mind to wander, and reality becomes increasingly surreal, or just too real... After hours on the computer, you look at a friend and are distracted by the realization that their left eye is smaller than the right one, that they have chapped knuckles and abnormally blue veins.
I have tried to be zen in my work, and failing at that, have made these pictures.
The compositions are automated, in 20-60 layers. They are mostly placed on the original backgrounds. Wherever there was a flaw, you see a mark. These marks, separated from the original, just to keep some kind of record and to draw a line between what is yours and what is mine. They look like ghosts to me.