photo courtesy of Gering & Lopez Gallery
How do you balance that personal work with your commissioned work?
I just do what I like to be doing. I never expected to work on a show like Crank Yankers. Jimmy Kimmel saw some the art that I did, and didn’t like what other people were coming up with for the puppets. He said he wanted me to design the puppets. Let me tell you, the puppet world is a small, small world. There’s a serious hierarchy. Not just anybody can work with Kermit. When those dudes do it, they stand and don’t move any other part of their body except their hand. When they practice, they lay down. Jesus Christ, those are some serious dudes!
So where do you stand in the puppet hierarchy?
I’m not even in there at all. I’m the dude who was in their world for like a second. [laughs]
Does graffiti still motivate you?
Yeah, I still do stuff. I think I did about 100 pieces last year, but now, I do it in places where nobody else is going to be. That’s stuff is really personal to me, because nobody has seen it, you know? Some of the pieces are just like a black book––straight black book pieces. I go through little phases. I’ll find myself looking at pieces, and wanting to do some old styles. It’s often someone from the past who will inspire me.
Is that therapeutic?
It’s just that I like doing it, and I know that later on, I’ll be glad that I did do it.
So that risk-taking is definitely still there for you?
I wasn’t like a risk-dude—the guy that climbs billboards or whatever. There is a risk involved painting trains, but when I was done, I got the fuck out of there. [laughs]





