Many sum me up with the color pink.
A flashy pink, provocative at times.
It’s a good start.
I’ve always had a soft spot for excess: saturated colors, people who don’t quite fit in, ideas no one would take seriously, situations that seem to be spiraling out of control.
The world is unintentionally comic.
I simply choose not to ignore it.
I observe.
I listen.
I’m not interested in recounting reality.
I’m interested in cracking it just enough to reveal what usually stays hidden.
It’s almost always a matter of rhythm.
Every idea has one.
If I don’t find it, I keep looking.
Because ideas shouldn’t just be executed.
They need to be put under pressure.
I take them apart. I warp them.
I push them where they aren’t supposed to go.
I use them the wrong way.
If they survive, they deserve to exist.
If they break, they probably weren’t strong enough.