DNR began with an obsession with a plastic wine bag. And a frustration with my inability to find the right words to express my thoughts. I had long since emptied the contents of this bag, but its presence continued to consume me. And so I began to experiment: when I blew it up with a straw it took on a life of its own. The plastic bag – ripped from its wine box womb – now hangs on a tree. Is it the morning after a good night out? Or did something more sinister happen? Lying on the chopping board it resembles chicken, but once you start cutting it brings forth images of a more sexual and violent nature. In the sink with scars patched up can you wash away the events of the night before? Or is it better just to drown your sorrows again? The symbiotic relationship and collaboration with this inanimate object provided me with a simple, effective and I hope in some ways also a slightly provocative way of exploring our abuse and mistreatment of the environment, of animals, of each other and ultimately of ourselves.