Ryan’s daughter, Kelsey, is an artist, and her monstrous art (in a literal way, there are monster masks & sculptures up in here, and it’s fucking fantastic) runs (zombie crawls) throughout the house. I imagine, when painting this self-portrait as a teenager, she was thinking of Egon Schiele. My brilliant friend Jeff introduced me to this artist in college. Not literally, as he would be a zombie, having died at 28 in 1918, but not before he painted sexy studies of local delinquents spread-eagled and such, but like totally brilliantly. I don’t know if it was the early death like Jim Morrison or the vivid red vaginas, but boy, I had a crush on him. I could stare at his oeuvre for hours. This was a test shot, but after an hour of shooting, turned out to be the best shot. Note the phallic still life. I find great joy in flower arrangements. Calvin Klein red dress with sashay – $6.98, Idaho Youth Ranch thrift store | no shoes, but I know to touch the floor with …