About Me.

My work begins with a question about architecture: spaces force us into frameworks, but do we want to be contained? This question — rooted in years of studying hallucinatory architectures, from Piranesi's prisons to Bachelard's poetics of space — led me to the street, to underground movements where resistance takes form. Graffiti, punk, activism, even hooliganism: art that emerges from deep sources when structures become unbearable or we just want to break loose.

 

I'm interested in what happens when systems crack. How things fall apart, disperse, explode. Through drawing, I follow the movement of seeds, drops, fragments... how nature distributes itself when containers break and how it related to how we behave. These aren't botanical studies. They're investigations of change itself, exploring what I can't articulate in words: I want to feel under my pencil point what happens when we let go and why.

 

My current work centers on a speculative scenario: blob-like creatures that have crash-landed randomly on earth, misshapen and leaking, appearing suddenly in unexpected places. They're grotesque but primarily vulnerable. Wrong in every way we understand bodies. I'm working from sketches and texts toward an installation that places viewers inside this disruption. What happens when you encounter these creatures on your street? Some want to help. Others want to destroy. That split—that moment of 'othering' between the work and the observer—is what I want to shape.

 

My practice doesn't stay in the studio. I've produced design objects, made collaborative work investigating dissociative states, built cultural infrastructures from the ground up in close collaboration with artists. Whether working with pencil on paper, engineering technical solutions, or facilitating collective projects, the question remains consistent: what grows in the cracks? What forms emerge when we stop forcing things into place?