Working with Monster taught me to embrace storytelling and not to be afraid of unlikely constellations. She brings together things that don't seem to fit, like Silvia Federici and insects or Ghostbusters and Milanese architecture, but somehow they become entirely coherent. That generosity of combination, that freedom to build worlds from fragments, really stayed with me and inspired me to create assemblages, not only of objects but of ideas.

Probably Genova. I built myself a leather workshop there and started sourcing from old leather shops across the city. In Berlin, I pushed myself towards working with hair as a material, which was definitely an important move, but Genova gave me the tools and time to actually construct differently. The slowness of leather work changed how I approach form. And of course, the whole theoretical universe that opened up through working with leather as a surrogate skin really influenced my practice like almost nothing else before.

Definitely motorcycle clothing: biker gloves, jackets, protective gear. Motorcycling leather gear carries a heavy cultural coding; it speaks of masculinity, control, aggression, and toughness. It belongs to a lineage of armour, of clothing that promises safety as well as a stylised look. Yet it also slips between worlds: it appears in queer fetishism, in lesbian biker culture, in the aesthetics of subversion. When I slice it open, flatten its seams, and restitch it, it becomes a kind of queer epidermis. By surgically cutting open these leather objects, I am not simply transforming them; I am performing a gesture that reclaims the body, reclaims the right to reshape one’s own surface, and dismantles the masculinised shell they represent.

The sculptural act becomes a way to claim transition as an act of agency rather than a cure, a process of monstrous self-creation rather than repair.

I think the ghosts of these objects' histories always remain. Some even remain almost intact, while others are buried under new layers, but different contexts keep leaking through. I’m not interested in erasing their pasts or their 'natural' functions, but rather in letting those traces haunt the new form and in letting them be monstrous on their own terms.

Many of my titles come from songs I listen to obsessively while working. Sometimes there are three or four fragments of lyrics woven into one title. They function like hidden timestamps or a sonic layer that most people don’t notice, like a private score that runs underneath the work.

Anything with a screen. I haven’t yet found a way to integrate electricity or video in a way that feels organic to my process. I’m interested in integrating screens or video into my sculptures, but I need time to figure out what makes sense based on the universe I've built. I don't want to end up integrating it just for the sake of it.

I spend way too much time on material hunts. I'd say it's really what I do most in life: roaming around and frantically looking for objects - sometimes I know exactly what I'm searching for, while other times I blindly look for whatever could catch my attention.

Marseille.

It might not be the most recent development, but I really enjoy the way many (queer) theoreticians are using art to prove their points or even analyse artists' work in their books. And it's even funnier when artists then refer back to these theoreticians. One could argue that it feels very self-referential (and in some cases I agree), but some artists and theoreticians work in a vast field, so even though they bounce ideas back and forth, something new and interesting always comes up.

Walking, listening to audiobooks, reading, cooking for myself or friends, singing, sewing.

I'm working hard to achieve the same confidence in floor sculptures, that I mostly have when doing wall sculptures. Even though I've made floor sculptures that I really, really like and even though the techniques needed are basically the ones I always use, it still feels more difficult to create a piece that is not wall-bound.

I'm really proud of the way I've shaped my practice in a direction that allows me to engage with subjects that really interest and move me, while at the same time allowing me to use almost any object, even ones that might not be associated with that exact topic. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I really feel like my practice opens up so many possibilities for material and subject. I've given myself a lot of freedom, but it still feels coherent and like there is a red string. Looking back on everything I've done so far, I'm really excited to see that there is a storyline and a world I've built, a world that expands from work to work.

Probably cooking in a restaurant.