It all started in the streets. Graffiti taught me to think in images that have to stand on their own, open to whatever meaning a passerby brings to them. Then came filmmaking, and with it the storyboard, which is almost the opposite: an image that only makes sense next to the one before it. What I do moves between those two worlds.
I’m drawn to characters who belong nowhere, to scenes where reality and dreams blur into each other and to charged atmospheres on the verge of breaking. It’s in that place where everything starts to smudge that I build my images thick with melancholy and poetic chaos.
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It all started in the streets. Graffiti taught me to think in images that have to stand on their own, open to whatever meaning a passerby brings to them. Then came filmmaking, and with it the storyboard, which is almost the opposite: an image that only makes sense next to the one before it. What I do moves between those two worlds.
I’m drawn to characters who belong nowhere, to scenes where reality and dreams blur into each other and to charged atmospheres on the verge of breaking. It’s in that place where everything starts to smudge that I build my images thick with melancholy and poetic chaos.
On paper I work with pencil, pastels and ink; on screen with oil, watercolor and textures; on walls with spray, paint and stencils. I could never choose between any of these tools because it’s in mixing them that I find the way to shape all these ever-shifting scenes.