a b o u t

Petra has enough baggage to crash a plane and makes art out of it.

I am jealous and hateful, I think I'm open until I start to dig within myself and find things darker and more dirty then my "darkest secret." I make art because the process of unleashing my thoughts is the only way I can communicate. Ask me to explain a feeling and I'd rather give you a photograph. I'm not a public speaker or a writer. I'm not your president, or your mother. I'm a small human being in a world too large to describe, making pictures in a language only I understand with perfect clarity. A dead language.

I'm a selfish woman and a crappy girlfriend, but I won't lie to you.