claustrophobia

Claustrophobia is your magic cloak, your invisible circle. I can only pretend that I am close to you.

joeun's death

One of my favourite school projects, compiling people's views on religion, life and death. I've always loved the projects that require field research, because my head isn't large enough to imagine what really is.

love at first sight,

something more at second.

for FL.ag world AIDS day issue

the last of the last season

And so it ends, a dream at night that turned into five books and a spread of vinyl planes on glass. Thank you all who came and even those who took away my portfolio postcards (hello schon, I don't think you're the only one who took things away). I have given up counting which ones are lost and will just reprint that set for interviews. But please please don't take anything else away.

The party of tomorrow of a few days ago is still the party of tomorrow. Except now the stories in my head will have to creep out in different ways, in different places. There is a theme I would like to draw and it's making me stay in today.

on a hot day like this i wish

that is is was and was is is

img: clouds, from My Monstrous Heart

you stole my heart

Somebody stole one of the hearts from my exhibition booth. One of the hearts is mine, and the other belongs to a child. Somebody took one of the hearts and closed the box, so it would take me a bit longer to discover that my heart has been stolen. 

Not the first time that I've lost something in a school exhibition. Last year I made an illustration book called "Mine", about possessiveness, and ironically somebody has made it his or hers. It is still mine.

Who would steal student work? A student? But a student would know how precious a project is and how it hurts to lose it. One copy in the entire world. I'm considering taking everything back from the exhibition.

white noise

preview of upcoming website:

white lies
white lies still
white lies down

Yes it's been a long time, and many new people have been born in my sketchbook since my revelation about what things should be.

Sometimes I feel that I should be colourful and noisy to get a job: collages, distressed type, big blocks of helvetica singing electropop lyrics. And sometimes I feel that I should show how clean and sleek I can be: hello corporate annual reports.

But I know I am happiest being myself: "just sit beside me and be quiet."

And so the white pages with the fine line type and drawings will stay.