I was born, they fed me, educated me, instructed me, and shaped me, but no one ever made me âdiscoverâ graffiti. We came together by chance upon seeing and analyzing one another (with the street between us) and we taught one another, getting to know each other in the moment just before my pre-teen period (it was either masturbate or paint something). First I thought that it could be a pastime, and then I realized that I had quit cigarettes but not graffiti. On the contrary, I felt that it was growing more each dayâ¦ there is not a day when I donât think about what to paint, where to paint, how to paint, what day, what hour, basically organizing my life around it.
At the end of this new decade I realized the value of the message left behind with 48 hours of this exercise (painting). If one thinks that revolutions are told on walls, those hours can say a lot, letâs say they can form a direct protest of society, by society. I think that graffiti is a point of connection for people, at least thatâs what I like to explore with this beautiful activity.
I discovered my style by accident, when love (which may be the culprit behind mankindâs greatest idiocies) brought me to creating the face of an ex girlfriend and I saw that it came relatively easily to meâ¦ maybe I made her a little fat and her nose a bit crooked, but from a distance it looked just like her. The thing is that I had always been fascinated by the human body, the meat that hides the bones, by what we hold inside, and more than that, its simple function, no?
So, to combine a small obsession for the body with a love of experimentation with people, the only way to do it is with the idealization of something, done with a religious slant. Religion has put symbols in our heads that come out even today in our ways of representing the body. Each person sanctifies when they ignore.