I’m dreaming, and in my dream I enter this gigantic store, all slick and white like an Apple joint. I go in and pull one leg off, swap out the thigh for one that's a little less lumpy. While I’m there I opt for the DeerAmalgam FleetFoot 2012, but only one, so I can still wear those great heels with the orange straps and the rhinestones. Then I tighten up all my pulleys and hinges and leave. I think that maybe next time I’ll spring for that metabolism upgrade.

We all know that our bodies betray us. We think that they are dependable and coherent, but just when we need them the most, we find a lump, or scar tissue or a mal-functioning gland. Our bodies break our hearts, which, when you think about it, is really not in their best interest.

Waking life doesn’t allow for swap-outs. Or at least, it didn’t used to.

We cut ourselves open, we extract, shave away, inflate. We attach robot limbs to our living nerves. Our skins have been breached by millions of needles and knives, some of which help, most of which don’t. We are harnessing the power of the swap-out and we mean to put it to use.

My work is about what happens when parts of our bodies betray us. What do we do with them? Leave them be? Drug them into submission? Repurpose them? Swap them out? These fragmented limbs are the corporeal artifacts of what we want, what we could be. It is the physical reenactment of my dream: the no-risk, no-hassle, pain-free, limited-time-only, special-offer, don’t wanna miss it swap-out.