Leftover body parts on my work table, some of them from famous women, had me thinking of how our singular parts of ourselves are developed, manufactured, fawned over, touched, coveted, marketed and consumed.
Even at my most whole as a woman, I felt the sweeping assessment constantly. And of course I participated as a viewer and creator of the feminine mantle, while being a walking collection of ideals and parts.
In the 80's I made several collages with legs coming out of the target. I'm thinking differently about it now, but in some ways this is full circle.