As an artist I'm not specifically interested in beauty, at least not in the greek conception of the term, as symmetry, pureness of the form and all those apolinean traces. I'm an urban soul therefore I'm used to find beauty in the very messy and delicate relations that emerges from chaos. As textures, I'm more likely to choose the rough, the concrete, the asphalt. There's something very human in the way a skyscrapper defies gravity and points its metal finger at god to say: we live, therefore we create. Those gray areas between the perception of our insignificance and our cocky way to never surrender in creating our own deturpated notion of nature interest me very deeply, everything that's broken, everything that's fake, everything in this jungle fever we call home. The obvious accurated geometry bores me. The right colors in perfect harmony make me sick. I live, as an artist, in the conflict, using it as a motor for creation. Nightmares are just dreams behaving badly. Come bad-dream with me.