I struggle with definitions. Maybe it’s a control issue. Everything was decided upon before I got to have a say. I don’t feel outside of the definitions. They look like I wrote them. I imagine myself as the divine observer, social constructs situated below me as windows, allowing me to look through and break them as I please. This is me as the academic. As the artist, I am trapped inside the windows, screaming and banging to get out. When I break through, I am offered another, more pleasant-looking window by the academic to look through. Who am I? This is what it means to be someone in the world. We as humans are social creatures.

In my work, I like to think about identity. It is something that we get from outside, those around us. There is no man and woman on a desert island alone. We need an ‘in’ group to help us see the world through their window. Identity is the lens through which we view other people, not how they view us. This, to me, is the key to understanding creativity. What is your identity? Once I know this, I can define what it means for you to be creative.

I was taught that the true meaning of art in the 21st century was to ask questions, and that is something I have grown quite fond of doing. This idea of the ‘original’ is extra intriguing. Predicated on the ideas of ownership and exchange value, I am interested in what originality means in an existence that is patently derivative, and where this intersects with creativity. I am a serial user of the multiple and the appropriation in my work, to an extent where even I myself am not sure what pieces of the work are truly ‘mine.’

Some people enjoy my work as an aesthetic. I wish this wasn’t so. It feels like a successful artist is one who is seen by all the people who were already looking. I want to be heard by all the people who were never listening.

Meaning is a peculiar thing. I would like to play with it. This is what an artist does, I'm told. Using selectivity as a means to provoke thought. What didn’t I put in there? If I put a sandwich on the vase, it’s a plate. I’m an artist, not a writer. That’s what they told me.