A face is but a mere mask, and not a transparent window to what some people refer to as our soul, authentic self, or true essence. There is no truth when dealing with people. People only broadcast to specific people specific glimpses that they feel safe and comfortable to concede, and a face is just another semblance they manage.
Human beings aren't definitions, nor do they operate in a binary—there is no black or white, on or off, cold or hot. We are complex little beasts with our own unique labyrinth of obscure, unresolved, layers upon layers of inner turmoil—self portraits and identities that are constantly being reconstructed as we walk through the dark corridors of life.
There is no authentic self, and as such, there is no authentic portrait. My work are anti-portraits in the sense that they don't attempt to reveal any kind of absolute truth about that particular person. A successful "portrait", for me, raises more questions than it provides answers. And in a minor way, my work is a failing effort to free the person I'm shooting from the expectations and definitions that others have oppressed them with, and implant them in an entirely novel world–a fictional realm of my own making.
Mystery is seductive. Mystery is liberating. Mystery is revelatory.