Q. What’s the first memory you have of creating?
Probably drawing in class instead of listening. And imagining entire worlds on the walk home from school. A simple street often became an epic journey. I invented characters, places, stories. Later I discovered writing, then guitar. I travelled with a backpack, a guitar and blank notebooks, filling them wherever I could sit for a moment. Creativity slowly became a way to exist in the world.

Q. What pushed you to create every day?
It came naturally. I moved from drawing to writing to composing with friends in a band. We played concerts, wrote songs, explored sounds. Then writing took over. I wrote whenever something inspired me, even abstract or intuitive pieces. It became a habit, then a need, and finally a craft I wanted to refine. Traveling helped a lot too. I met people, crossed languages, shared art in simple ways.

Q. What emotion follows you the most when you create?
A quiet happiness. Creating feels like discovering myself and escaping at the same time. Over the years, I also learned to create to grow, to experiment, to offer something different, to share. The energy of other artists and the community plays a huge role.

Q. What does the support of others mean to you?
Everything. It carried me through grief, difficult days, and moments when life felt heavy. It helped me see the world in a more positive way, regain confidence, and simply get by. I live very simply, and these last years have been almost entirely dedicated to creation and to others.

Q. Is there a moment with your community that marked you?
Many. The immense kindness when I lost people close to me. The everyday generosity. And also Akimora, which became something unique and multiple at the same time. It still surprises me.

Q. What touches you the most when someone comments on or buys your art?
Something very simple. I grew up being told I would fail, by relatives and teachers. So each gesture of support feels like a quiet confirmation that I chose the right path, that I stayed true to a part of me that was always there.

Q. What feeds your imagination?
Forty years of life. Travels. Films. Books. A sky. An emotion. A conversation. Anything, really. Everything can become a door.

Q. What atmosphere guides you when you work?
I alternate between frenetic, instinctive iteration and slow, deliberate creation with a clear goal. The mix of both, guided by the emotion of the moment, makes my work what it is.

Q. Why do you keep creating, even through fatigue or doubt?
Because it became vital. It is both an escape and a home. I explore my inner worlds, ask questions, and sometimes find answers. I also have a long-term vision, and I don’t want doubt to erase the path I’ve built.

Q. What small truth would you like to share with those who follow you?
That I remain a simple person. Nothing ever came easily. Every step exists because I learned to transform fragility into something alive. You can come from anywhere, carry any past, and still create something that matters.

Q. What do you hope people feel when they enter your universe?
A sense of calm or inner freedom. A door opening. A space where they can bring their own story. If someone feels a spark or a lighter moment while looking at my art, that’s already more than I hoped for.