Added Feb 26, 2025
10 Interview Questions:
Your work is deeply rooted in sustainability. What was the initial spark that led you to embrace discarded materials and eco-friendly alternatives in your sculptures?You describe your studio as a "creative traffic accident" where recycled materials and technology collide—can you walk us through your typical creative process?How do you balance structure and spontaneity in your artistic practice? Do you plan your sculptures in advance, or do they evolve organically?You mention that every discarded object has a history. Have you ever come across a material with a particularly compelling story that influenced a piece?Soy-based resin plays a significant role in your work. What led you to choose this material, and how does it compare to traditional sculptural materials in terms of both aesthetics and sustainability?What are some of the biggest challenges you face when sourcing and working with recycled materials?How do you see the role of artists in promoting sustainability and environmental responsibility?Do you consider light to be just another medium in your art, or do you see it as something more?Are there any emerging materials or technologies you’re excited to experiment with in future works?If you could place one of your sculptures anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?
As I embarked on my journey into the whimsical world of sculpting, I found myself diving headfirst into a treasure trove of discarded wonders—jars and bottles, toys and trinkets, all waiting to be transformed into something extraordinary. Armed with a wild imagination and a hearty dose of eco-enthusiasm, I began to scour the streets and thrift stores, my eyes gleaming with the thrill of the hunt. Every piece of litter was a potential gem, a canvas for my eccentric visions, and I was determined to give them a second life, one quirky creation at a time!
It was like being on a scavenger hunt, each find sparking joy and inspiration. A discarded glass jar? Perfect! I could turn it into a glowing lantern that would light up the night like a beacon of creativity. A forgotten toy? Oh, it could be the head of a fantastical creature, bursting with personality and charm! The thrill of combining UV-reactive paints with glow-in-the-dark finishes sent shivers down my spine—imagine sculptures that shimmered and glowed, enchanting anyone who dared to gaze upon them. My little creations became magical portals, transporting onlookers into a world where anything could happen.
With every new adventure, I embraced my role as an artistic alchemist, mixing, matching, and assembling the most unlikely of materials into cohesive masterpieces. The moment I splashed that first stroke of puffy paint onto a repurposed bottle, I felt a surge of exhilaration. It was as if the universe was giving me a high-five, saying, “Yes! This is the path!” The colors danced and swirled, igniting a vibrant life within the once-forgotten objects. The result? Sculptures that not only told stories but invited viewers to join the narrative—a playful dialogue between art and the environment.
As I sculpted these smaller pieces, each one became a testament to my belief that beauty could be born from the most unexpected sources. I’d often find myself giggling at the absurdity of it all: “Look at this jellyfish made from an old bottle and seaweed! Who knew plastic could be so… oceanic?” Friends and strangers alike would gather around, their faces lighting up with delight and surprise as they marveled at the transformation. “Is that really a bottle cap turned into a vibrant flower?” they’d exclaim, eyes wide with wonder. “Absolutely!” I’d reply, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. “And isn’t it fabulous?”
The energy was infectious, and soon I became a local legend—a whimsical wizard of waste, conjuring joy and laughter from the remnants of our society. People began to bring me their own forgotten treasures, each offering an opportunity for more fantastical creations. “Can you turn this old toy into something spectacular?” they’d ask, and I’d respond with a gleeful, “Challenge accepted!”
So here I stand, a proud curator of quirky curiosities, each piece a delightful reminder that adventure lies in the most unexpected places. With every sculpture, I invite you to join me on this exhilarating journey—a quest to uncover the magic hidden within our discarded world. Let’s celebrate the beauty of transformation, the joy of laughter, and the thrill of creativity! Together, we’ll reshape our reality, one vibrant, glow-in-the-dark masterpiece at a time. Who knows what wonders await just beyond the next pile of junk? Let’s find out!
Ah, welcome to my studio, a place I affectionately describe as a “creative traffic accident.” Picture this: a whimsical wonderland where the vibrant colors of recycled materials and errant technology collide in a delightful chaos that resembles a party where everyone is invited, but not every guest knows how to dance. It’s a veritable smorgasbord of artistic possibilities, where ideas swirl around like confetti in the wind, and creativity spills over like an overzealous piñata that has just met its match with a particularly enthusiastic five-year-old.
My creative process starts with what can only be described as a treasure hunt, a quest more akin to an archaeological dig than your typical day at the office. Instead of ancient relics, I’m sifting through a delightful mess of discarded treasures, each one waiting to be resurrected. I begin by rummaging through my stash of recycled materials, which are piled high like the remnants of a craft apocalypse. This is where I find pieces of wood that once served as kitchen tables in bustling family homes, broken electronics that still hum with the ghosts of their former lives, and a collection of buttons that could probably tell stories more interesting than mine.
As I sift through this eclectic collection, I can’t help but anthropomorphize the objects. “Ah, this splendid plank! Once a proud kitchen table, now reborn as a piece of art!” I imagine the adventures these materials have had, and I feel a twinge of responsibility to honor their past while giving them a new future. It’s as if I’m the guardian of their stories, taking them under my wing and giving them a fresh start. My studio is alive with the whispers of forgotten memories, and I’m the conductor of this delightful symphony of rebirth.
Once I’ve unearthed the right treasures, I take a moment to ponder the theme or inspiration behind my next masterpiece. This is where my brain takes a wild detour through a carnival of ideas, swinging from one thought to another, occasionally getting stuck on a particularly shiny concept. I might draw inspiration from a childhood memory—perhaps the time I tried to fly with a homemade cape—or a fleeting moment in nature, like the way sunlight dances on a dewdrop. Sometimes, I even find myself inspired by the colorful chaos of my own studio, where half-finished projects and rogue paint splatters create a surreal landscape that would make even Salvador Dalí raise an eyebrow.
Next up on my creative agenda are the fairy lights and mirrors—oh, the fairy lights! These little twinkling gems are like the sprinkles on a cupcake, adding that extra dash of magic that transforms my studio from a simple workspace into an enchanting wonderland. I drape them around my sculptures like confetti, creating a soft glow that makes everything look infinitely cooler. It’s like I’ve thrown a surprise party for my art, and every piece is the guest of honor, basking in the warm, ethereal light.
And then there are the mirrors—my love affair with mirrors is akin to a romantic comedy where the characters just can’t seem to get it right until the very end. Mirrors add depth and reflection, creating a dialogue between the sculpture and the viewer. It’s like I’m inviting people to step into a whimsical funhouse where they get to see themselves in my art, merging their own stories with the creations before them. “Look! You’re part of this chaos too!” I imagine saying, as they stand there contemplating the profound meaning of a sculpture made from bottle caps and old circuit boards.
Lately, however, I’ve been working toward specific submissions, which adds a layer of pressure to my creative shenanigans. It’s like trying to bake a soufflé while riding a roller coaster—exhilarating but also a tad nerve-wracking. With deadlines looming, I’ve become a bit of a mad scientist in my lab of wonders, meticulously deciding which gems, quirky bits, and seemingly random objects go with the theme. Should this sculpture have a touch of vintage buttons or a sprinkle of glittery glass shards? Maybe a few pieces of driftwood? I find myself in a thrilling dance with creativity, balancing the absurdity of my choices with the seriousness of my artistic intentions.
In the midst of this delightful chaos, I often break into fits of laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of my creative process. “Is it too much to add googly eyes?” I ponder aloud, as if the inanimate objects around me could offer their sage advice. Sometimes, I even find myself engaging in full-blown conversations with my materials. “What do you think, old friend? Should we go avant-garde or stick to the classic?” It’s in these moments that I truly embrace the absurdity of being an artist—a madcap creator who thrives on whimsy and unpredictability, all while trying to make sense of the world around me.
In my studio, the collision of recycled materials and technology isn’t just a concept; it’s a kaleidoscopic whirlwind of ideas, laughter, and a little bit of madness. Every step in my creative process feels like a delightful detour, leading me closer to the finished sculpture—a piece that embodies not just my artistic vision but also a slice of the chaotic joy that is my creative life. As I step back to admire my work, I can’t help but feel a sense of triumph. Each sculpture is a testament to the journey, the laughter, and the infinite possibilities born from a little chaos and a lot of heart.
In the past, my artistic practice resembled a wild, carefree dance — think interpretive dance, but with less grace and more clay under my nails. It was like watching a toddler go full-on disco at a wedding, flailing around without a care in the world. I would dive headfirst into my sculptures, allowing them to evolve organically, much like a game of artistic charades. I’d start with a lump of clay, a few tools, and a vague idea of what I wanted to create, and before I knew it, I’d be wrestling with it, letting my intuition guide the way. It was a messy, chaotic process, and I loved every minute of it. My studio often resembled a tornado that had decided to throw a party in a pottery barn. Imagine clay splatters on the walls like abstract art, and tools scattered around like a battlefield of creativity — it was a beautiful disaster.
However, as the winds of change blew through my creative landscape, I’ve found myself embracing a bit more structure in my work. I guess you could say I’m learning to wear a metaphorical beret instead of a paint-splattered smock. It’s a shift that feels both exhilarating and terrifying, like trying to ride a unicycle for the first time while juggling flaming torches. Lately, I’ve been aiming for specific submissions, which has nudged me out of my comfort zone and into new, uncharted territories. For example, I recently tackled an all-blue monochromatic piece that was published in *Monochromica*. Let me tell you, doing an entire piece in one color felt like trying to eat a bowl of blueberries without any other flavors to cut through. It was a challenge, but the result was unexpectedly delightful — like a blueberry muffin fresh out of the oven, bursting with flavor.
And speaking of stepping outside my comfort zone, I’ve also dipped my toes into the whimsical world of steampunk. Yes, you heard that right! My first steampunk-inspired pieces are in the works, and I’ve been having an absolute blast combining Victorian aesthetics with a dash of industrial flair. Picture gears, cogs, and maybe even a top hat or two. Honestly, I feel like I should be sipping tea while wearing goggles and a monocle, ready to take on the world with my whimsical creations. It’s a delightful mix of whimsy and craftsmanship that has me feeling like a mad scientist in my studio, conjuring up art that could easily belong in a fantastical novel.
Right now, I’m also knee-deep in my current project: my first abstract piece centered around the theme of love. Now, let me tell you, abstract art is a whole other beast. It’s like trying to capture a feeling in a bottle, and I’m not talking about the kind of feeling you get when you’ve just eaten a whole pizza by yourself (though that’s a strong contender). I’m digging deep, mining my emotions, and wrestling with the concept of love, trying to translate that into a physical form. It’s a bit like trying to explain a dream to someone: “Well, there was this giant heart made of clouds, and then a cat wearing a bowtie appeared… and oh, don’t forget the dancing unicorn!” You get the idea.
The process has been a rollercoaster of ideas and emotions. I’ve spent hours staring at the canvas, contemplating the meaning of love while snacking on chocolate — because, let’s be real, chocolate is essential for artistic inspiration. I’ve tried to harness the essence of love, its sweetness, its complexities, and the way it sometimes feels like you’re trying to juggle flaming swords while riding a unicycle. It’s a glorious mess, but I’m determined to create something that resonates with the world, even if it makes people scratch their heads and ask, “What exactly is going on here?”
Currently, I’m also working on my very first black, white, and gray pieces for submission. It’s a departure from my usual palette, but I’m enjoying the challenge. Every time I mix those colors, it feels like I’m channeling my inner noir film, complete with dramatic shadows and existential musings. I can almost hear the jazz music playing in the background as I sculpt away, feeling like a character in a classic detective story, where the art is both the clue and the conclusion. The stark contrast of black and white allows me to explore the nuances of light and shadow, creating depth and emotion that can sometimes be missing in more colorful pieces.
Balancing structure and spontaneity in my art has become a delightful juggling act. It’s like trying to dance the tango while simultaneously doing the cha-cha — both require rhythm, but the steps are wildly different. I’m discovering that both approaches enrich my work in unexpected ways. Whether I’m meticulously planning for a submission or allowing a piece to unfold organically, each one adds a layer to my artistic journey, one chuckle-filled clay squish at a time. The process has taught me that art is not just about the final product but also about the joy and laughter that comes along with it.
Through this artistic evolution, I’ve also found camaraderie among fellow artists who share their own chaotic, whimsical journeys. We swap stories about our creative mishaps, like the time I accidentally glued my fingers together while working on a mixed-media piece (a classic case of “artistic enthusiasm” gone wrong). We laugh about the messy studio floors and the countless cups of coffee consumed in the name of inspiration. It’s a community that thrives on the absurdities of the creative process, where we can all relate to the struggle of trying to balance our wild imaginations with the realities of deadlines and submissions.
As I continue to navigate this artistic landscape, I’m filled with excitement for what lies ahead. Each new project is an opportunity to explore, to experiment, and to embrace the delightful chaos that comes with being an artist. Whether I’m sculpting a whimsical steampunk contraption, pouring my heart into an abstract piece about love, or simply navigating the unpredictable waters of creativity, I’m reminded that art is a journey worth taking — messy, hilarious, and full of surprises. Who knew that creating art could be such a riotously fun adventure? I can’t wait to see where this journey takes me next, and I’m ready to embrace every twist, turn, and clay-smeared moment along the way!
Yes, I’ve definitely encountered materials with compelling stories that have influenced my work. One of the most impactful experiences I’ve had involved creating memorial pieces for people who wanted to honor their loved ones. They would bring me specific objects or materials that held deep significance for them—perhaps a fragment of fabric from a cherished garment, a piece of jewelry, or even a small trinket that carried memories.
Each of these items had its own history, and as I worked with them, I could feel the weight of the stories they held. The themes my clients asked for often guided the direction of the pieces, infusing them with even more meaning. It was a profound experience to take these remnants of life and weave them into something new, something that would honor the memory of those who had passed.
The process was both challenging and rewarding, as I aimed to capture the essence of the person while also transforming the materials into a piece of art that could be cherished. It reminded me that every discarded object has the potential to tell a story, and I feel privileged to be part of that narrative.
Ah, soy-based resin—a delightful concoction that has become a cornerstone of my artistic endeavors and a source of endless fascination. Let me take you on a little journey through my thought process, complete with a sprinkling of humor, a dash of wisdom (or at least I’ll try), and perhaps a few detours through the absurdity of life as an artist.
You see, the world of art is a tantalizing playground where creativity knows no bounds. It’s a whimsical realm where imagination runs wild, and resin has always been my trusty steed. I mean, have you ever watched a resin piece glimmer in the sunlight? It’s like a small miracle of nature, as if the universe decided to bless us with a shiny, colorful, and sometimes wacky medium. One moment, you’re gazing at a simple paperweight, and the next, you’re confronted with an avant-garde sculpture that makes your aunt question your life choices at Thanksgiving dinner—“Oh dear, what does this represent? Is it a commentary on the state of our society, or did you just spill your cereal again?”
But here’s the kicker: I found myself in a bit of a pickle, a real conundrum. As much as I adored using traditional resin, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that every time I poured that petrochemical-based goo, I was contributing to an environmental crisis the likes of which we only see in apocalyptic movies. You know, the kind where a giant monster made of plastic rises from the ocean, ready to wreak havoc on humanity? Yeah, I didn’t want to be part of that narrative. I mean, I’d much rather be known for my quirky sculptures than as the unwitting villain in a B-movie about environmental collapse.
So, I decided to take a leap of faith into the world of soy-based resins. Why soy, you ask? Well, not only do I love the idea of using a material that comes from something as unassuming as soybeans—those little legumes that often get overshadowed by their flashier cousins in the vegetable aisle—but I also wanted to make a choice that w
Major News, Birthday Shenanigans, and Art Galore! 
Hey, fabulous friends and fellow art enthusiasts!
Get ready, because this edition is packed with more colorful chaos and thought-provoking pieces that will have you questioning everything from the nature of existence to whether you really should have eaten that last slice of cake. Spoiler alert: You totally should have.Now, let’s pivot to something even more pressing—grab your party hats, folks, because I’m officially one week away from leveling up in the grand game of life! 
Yes, that’s right! I’m about to blow out another candle on my cake and, let me tell you, I’m ready to make some serious wishes. I mean, I’ll definitely be wishing for world peace (because who doesn’t want that?), but if I’m being honest, I’ll also be wishing for a little extra gas money to fund my artistic escapades. You know, priorities!Speaking of priorities, I’ve got a little something for you: my art is always up for grabs, and let me tell you, it’s not just any old artwork! If you’ve ever dreamed of owning a piece of my creative genius (or at least something to hang on your wall that’s not a pizza box or that weird poster from college), now’s your golden opportunity! Whether you’re looking to add a splash of color to your living room or simply want to impress your guests with your impeccable taste (and, let’s be real, your excellent decision-making skills), I’ve got you covered. Plus, every purchase helps fund my pilgrimage to Detroit to see one of my all-time favorite bands, the Deftones, and trust me, you don’t want to miss out on this mission! 
So, if you’re interested in adding some pizzazz to your life (and helping me rock out like a true fan), just give me a shout! Thank you all for being such an integral part of my journey and for continuously supporting my artistic dreams. You truly are the wind beneath my wings—or at least the caffeine that keeps me going!
I’m bubbling with excitement and just had to share the news—drumroll, please! 
My brainchild, Novum Artis, is currently strutting its stuff at the printer. Yes, that’s right! It’s off to become a tangible piece of art, ready to dazzle the world! But wait, there’s more! Monochromica’s second edition is currently in the layout process, and let me tell you, watching it come to life is like witnessing a caterpillar transform into a butterfly—if that butterfly were a fabulous, ink-scented book, of course! 
And as if that weren’t enough to keep my creative juices flowing, I’ve got not one, but TWO online publications simmering away on the back burner. They’re bubbling with potential and ready to burst onto the scene any day now! So, buckle up, folks—there’s a creative storm brewing, and you won’t want to miss the whirlwind of writing and art that’s about to hit your screens!
Thank you all for being the amazing community that you are! 
