T H E M A D N E S S O F D E S I R E
This series is a visceral dive into the tension between ecstasy and restraint, power and surrender. Bodies twist, collide, and unravel in a choreography of raw emotion, where shadows carve longing into skin, and every movement pulses with unspoken desire. Inspired by classical forms but drenched in the chaos of human passion, these images speak of the delirium that comes with wanting, with feeling too much.
Here, beauty is not pristine but unruly: sweat, muscle, and gaze charged with defiance. The compositions flirt with tradition only to dismantle it, unraveling the expectations of masculinity, intimacy, and the body as an object of desire. It’s a fever dream of connection, a love letter to the madness of desire.
Here, beauty is not pristine but unruly: sweat, muscle, and gaze charged with defiance. The compositions flirt with tradition only to dismantle it, unraveling the expectations of masculinity, intimacy, and the body as an object of desire. It’s a fever dream of connection, a love letter to the madness of desire.
T H E M A D N E S S O F L O V E
This series unravels the feverish, all-consuming nature of desire: where love is both addiction and affliction, pleasure and ache. Bodies coil and clash, searching for connection yet slipping into power struggles, as if intimacy itself is a battleground. Cigarettes burn between parted lips, a symbol of longing that is both fleeting and toxic, desire that ignites as quickly as it disappears.
Here, masculinity and femininity dissolve into one another, proving that the body: beautiful, raw, vulnerable; knows no fixed identity. Strength softens into surrender, tenderness twists into possession. Love becomes an ecstatic delirium, a craving that is never quite satisfied.
Drawing from Mapplethorpe’s reverence for form and tension, these images do not romanticize, they expose. They lay bare the chaos of passion, the fragility of bodies caught in the push and pull of wanting but never quite giving, touching but never truly holding. Love is a madness we willingly submit to, and here, in the shadows and sweat, it devours us whole.
Here, masculinity and femininity dissolve into one another, proving that the body: beautiful, raw, vulnerable; knows no fixed identity. Strength softens into surrender, tenderness twists into possession. Love becomes an ecstatic delirium, a craving that is never quite satisfied.
Drawing from Mapplethorpe’s reverence for form and tension, these images do not romanticize, they expose. They lay bare the chaos of passion, the fragility of bodies caught in the push and pull of wanting but never quite giving, touching but never truly holding. Love is a madness we willingly submit to, and here, in the shadows and sweat, it devours us whole.
