When I'm asked what my art's about – which is every time I'm interviewed or talking to patrons at one of my openings – I talk about how a contemporary woman's identity (including her sexuality) is defined by advertising, entertainment, and commercial pornography. My take on it is dystopic: we surrender ourselves to cookie-cutter personae concocted by producers, programmers and marketers and blithely follow the scripts they pen for us. We become actors in a curious reality show they direct in our heads. It makes us more amenable to a relentless, ambient commercial feed. We become more malleable as consumers.I'm no different – which is why fictive, media-inspired versions of me turn up in nearly all my work. My recent big enamel paintings are produced in series (just like TV shows and ad campaigns) because I'm trying to replicate the experience of mass media. Let's face it, it's getting hard to tell art (and artist) from product – something both Andy Warhol and Damien Hirst understood.