Contrast is what keeps life interesting.

Growing up less than an hour from New York City, I was always dreaming about my next trip to Manhattan. The people, the motion, the textures, the actions and reactions all shaped how I saw the city.

Skateboarding was my gateway into its corners. My friends and I had a route from Grand Central to Chinatown, carefully mapped to hit the best skate spots. These invisible motion lines became etched into my mind, layered onto my mental map of the city.

In the summers, my older brother and I spent as much time on the water as possible. We worked as waterski and wakeboarding counselors at a camp, blending our love of extreme sports with the relaxed pace of lake life.

Slowing down to nature’s pace has always been the best therapy. The two extremes (city life and lake life) helped me appreciate that balance from a young age. These childhood memories are full of emotions that I return while drawing. I hope this brings out the curiosity in others.

I like to make art when I travel. Each city brings new influence—through the places, the people, and the stories that emerge, especially through spontaneous artist collaborations.

Before starting this chapter, I took a dive into the history of urban planning. Some cities I knew firsthand, others I studied through maps, street view and drone / satellite imagery.

Returning to Italy felt right for this moment. Back to the classics, where some of the most influential cities were formed: Rome, Milan and of course, Florence.

When I first visited this country, I was really inspired by life around the piazza. It’s something that’s less a part of the city’s fabric in the US, so it caught my attention.

I created an animated piece called Sinfonia, inspired by a public fountain. This became a bidder’s edition for one of my early Cities artworks. The flow of water with the architecture around it felt like visual music.

From 2015 to 2020, I was obsessed with drone photography (under @efdrone), and that bird’s-eye view still informs how I see Cities. You can get lost in the detail, but I’m more interested in distilling it — finding rhythm, structure, and flow.

I chose cities with unique layouts and visual signatures that resonated with my language: Florence’s symmetry, Sicily’s winding streets. Each one invited a different response through mark-making.

My style evolved from my curiosity about the intersection of art, design and public space.

The immediacy of a spray can or paint marker shows up in my digital work. Raw, fluid marks that break the grid.

I like to say “open lines open minds”. Gestalt thinking helps me find peace in the process, knowing every dot and line contributes to the effect. The delicate balance of color and positive / negative space, in such a way that the viewer completes the image in their mind.

In this collection, those interactions became more visible. I leaned into the idea that ideas are interconnected. The maps flow into one another, forming a larger artwork and letting the eye move organically.

What better way to emphasize that than a triptych of triptychs, to mirror the repetition and structure of city grids.

Memories are all we really have. Maybe that’s why I return to them so often in my work.

I’m drawn to the small moments, like the feeling of turning a corner and seeing something unexpected, or rolling through a plaza full of tourists. I show the movement through my color choices, dotted lines, and layered collisions.

The internet has its own architecture: algorithms, patterns, behaviors. Like cities, it reflects the full spectrum of humanity.

Artists are the guides of the digital world. We shape emotion, meaning, and flows of attention in online public squares.

Artists can carve out unexpected spaces in that system — corners that feel more human and honest. As digital spaces evolve, artists will play a bigger role in designing places worth being in — not just scrolling through, but feeling immersed in a world.

I hope the Cities tour leaves something people can feel—not just murals or events, but a shift in how they see their city and their place in it.

Whether it’s someone walking by on their commute or a kid seeing abstract art in the urban landscape for the first time, I want the work to spark curiosity and conversation.

The murals create unexpected breaks in rhythm of the city, that invite you to zoom out and see the bigger picture.

The shows and workshops bring people together in real time. If even a few people feel more present and connected to their surroundings, that’s the kind of impact I’m after.

Skateboarding changed how I read cities—less as fixed, more as fluid systems.

Skaters are scanning for rhythm, surface, interruption. That instinct carries into my art. I’m drawn to places where the grid is dynamic, where the order isn’t fully resolved. Like skating, it’s about finding unexpected lines and turning them into something artful.

For me, it’s all one practice—just different tools and tempos.

Physical work grounds me. Murals slow me down and make me present with the materials.

Digital gives me speed and flexibility. Space to iterate.

Algorithmic art is where it gets really interesting, collaborating with code and artists like @0xdiid. We’re building systems that add the element of surprise while staying true to my vision. It means letting go of some control to see what emerges.

The friction between these mediums keeps things fresh. I’m not trying to master one format, just exploring how they speak to each other and evolve together.

My definition of art, and the role of the artist continue to expand.

It’s no longer only about craft, it’s about systems. How work moves, how it’s shared, who it reaches.

Being an artist today means thinking about the future while protecting enough headspace to create. It’s strange, but freeing.

I’d love to create a chapter around the infinite city—built from places I’ve visited, maps I’ve studied, and subconscious patterns.

New York would be its core. A city that keeps unfolding the more you look.

Because New York taught me how people move—how we adapt, flow, and collide. Once you see those patterns here, you notice them everywhere. In other cities. Online. Even in yourself.

Thanks for these questions and for highlighting the work. I’m excited to look back one day and see where this project has taken us.