The artist's story unfolds in the half light of the new century, but it started light years before the commodification of so called street art. From the unkempt corners of the urban swill to the pages of high fashion gloss, a sensitive new handscript mixes it up with trademark decisive strokes and offculture detail. Glimpses of a nomadic tribe, daubed in an advanced state of happiness are outlined against a fire breathing pleasureland. From pizza boxes of Paris to record sleeves in Reykjavik via the information super cart track, his fantasy argot is working its own brand of social voodoo into the mindset of the graphic current. And all the while shouting Me! Me! Me!
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