The figures on my canvases and my sculptures (fruit, animals, plants, etc.) have been explored by artists before – they’re the same items we see in a still-life at the turn of the century or a kitschy ceramic piece in the parlor of an old house. In this way, the subject matter I deal with is both familiar and strange simultaneously – you may have seen it before but probably not like this. The present and the past are linked but the past is not repeated. I can bring the pomegranate back to the living-room but it won’t be the same one that’s been there before – it’ll be huge and spray-painted and you’ll strain your eyes and scratch your head wondering why the octopus’ tentacles are wrapped around it. The playfulness of my paintings and installations is not meant to be overbearing. The nostalgia and mystery that should shroud each piece is at times mixed with a little bit of the macabre. There are no taboos I’d shy away from, and, while you shouldn’t read too much symbolism into a piece, nothing is thrown around at random either. Not everything has been said already. We can look at the past, dust it off, and put it back on the shelf, changed somehow, slightly slanted. I can show you a shark from the ocean in my living room – don’t worry, it won’t bite (too hard). Or maybe it will, but you’ll like it.