That’s what I think is central. It’s amazing because those references mean that my work expands as I expand, as I’m exposed to different things or go to new places. I’m building all these different worlds and I feel there’s more access than ever before. Even in terms of the different versions of self that are layered there, I feel way more comfortable owning those because I know now that when you put on this mask you’re presenting to the world—it may not be the most authentic version of you, but it is still a version of you.

So many of the conversations I’ve been having recently are about this—identifying your sources and references, and how being cognizant of that makes you a well-rounded person.

Definitely, it’s a search. For example, my last show was called “I Against I,” which is a reference to a Bad Brains album. There aren’t that many folks in the Black punk world, so I love how fundamental Bad Brains were—they really taught people too, alternating from the craziest punk songs to super calm dub. Through researching them, I found out that the skinhead aesthetic was based on Jamaican rude boys, which is wild. This crazy racist ideology was based on a Black image and culture.

It’s insane. The first skinheads were emulating Jamaican people that came to Britain in the 50s and 60s. All the young Jamaican kids would rock shaved heads and workwear. Other kids back in that day were mods, they were all wearing suits—but when they saw these Jamaicans they started looking up to them and dressing like them. So when the neo-Nazis recruited the rowdiest white guys at local soccer games, that style came with them—and they had no idea it was taken from Jamaican subculture.

I’m so glad that you picked up on that. What I’m trying to do is build something like a diary—like how, when you were a kid, you would scrapbook your favorite stickers, or notes, or whatever felt important to you. That’s what I’m aiming to evoke—and within that, each piece has its own specific purpose. “I Against I” was looking at patterns in my life—so I would take one pattern that I felt was self-defeating and then juxtapose it with its ideal version.

Right. For example, I’m very impulsive, which I love. Since I don’t have rigid standards for how I like to live, it leaves me open. So one piece I worked on in an impulsive way—I made it the day before traveling to London for the show. Then I paired it with a piece about planning, which was very meticulously done. I thought the impulsive piece would be less significant given how I worked on it, but in the end, I liked it best. It made me realize I should let myself lean into impulsiveness, with just enough control to guide me. In that sense, my paintings are art therapy, where I can work out these conflicts deep within me.

Definitely. When I look at old work, I can remind myself of what I was going through at that time. I can say “Damn, you overcame that. You worked through it.” Or sometimes it’s more like “You’re still dealing with that shit? Remember you were dealing with that last time!” My work is so affected by my emotions.

Sad, I think.

It’s so true. For this last show, I was in London and I was technically done with all of it, but I couldn’t stop. I was painting fifteen minutes before the opening. It’s something I want to be better about, but I also feel it’s something that’s magical about my practice. It means I’m present and making decisions when I can see the whole body of work in front of me. I feel a closer connection that way than when it’s all planned out.

I’m trying to give myself bounds and then explore within those. Sometimes my impulses take me so left field that I’ll have to destroy the piece, because it’s so far away from the rest. I definitely need to give myself a boundary.

Yeah. Damn, I never realized how much I idolize impulse until this conversation.

I have a very Black metal and punk background, right? But I’ve been really leaning into the techno rave scene and I see that there too: all these DJs taking from such different musical references and making a mix out of it. I feel it’s so comparable to my work, where I’m pulling from everywhere—even things I never used to admit to, like being really into RPG and Final Fantasy growing up. Now it’s something I can display within my work and recontextualize. It’s insane seeing all the parallels though.

I feel that’s what I gained from traveling—it expanded my mind and gave me new points of reference. You see that in music—even UK drill versus New York drill. UK drill is still very drum and bass heavy, whereas New York drill is very trap—it’s cool seeing how people take the same style and make it their own based on their region or their references from growing up. I feel that’s exactly what I’m trying to do with my art. I want someone to see my work and already be able to imagine me.

It’s beautiful to see how the same reference can affect so many different people. Back in the day, you had to be on the ground. If you were a punk, you were only a punk. You hung out at the punk spots and you knew about the punk shows because you were part of the scene. But now with Instagram, you can be a part of a scene without ever even being in the scene itself. It expands people’s realms.

Exactly, because it’s all about what’s “in.” Style used to come from your points of reference—what music you were into, what movies you were watching, what scene you were around. Now, you don’t have to be a raver to wear raver pants. If anybody asks, people just say, “Oh, I saw this in a magazine, I thought that it looked cool.” But we were wearing that shit so we could hide drugs in our pockets. It’s form versus function.

And that was booster culture! People were going in there, racking as much Arcteryx as they could, and flipping it on the black market so they could make their bread. And now the people buying it from the boosters are trying to say it’s their original style. But they’re the licks! They paid $600 so someone could eat. But that’s the whole economy, which I’ve only just finally learned.

Totally. Gatekeeping is lame, but sometimes it’s necessary. With my work, I’ll be digging through archives, sifting through all the bullshit, until I find the stuff that speaks to me. As much as I want to show people what excites me, I also worked really hard to find it. Sometimes that makes me hold back.

It is colonialism. Meanwhile we’re just searching for a sense of community through all our various art forms, be that writing, painting, or even DJing. We’re building this world where you can include people with the same mindset or sense of self as you. That’s what’s beautiful. That’s what we should aim for.