One time, when I was in undergrad, a friend from my cohort, Cat, found a little bird in the sculpture yard. Its feet were tied together and it could not fly away. Cat untangled the bird with little tiny scissors, but still it wouldn’t fly away. She placed it in a box in her studio, but when she came to class, she told me that she didn’t think the bird was going to make it and asked, “do you want the bird after it dies?” because at this point I’d become known as someone with an appreciation for the dead. I said yes, the bird died. I took it out of the box and nailed it to a round piece of wood with wings spread wide. Cat said, “All hail the Mother of Death,” and I smiled.

These images were created in the studio using strobes, an animal’s jaw bone, the bird’s wings and a plant cut leaf and piece of golden fabric.