I have always been the »something else,« as I always felt the need to write in the white box or over the black dots, supplementing the alternatives, building a space where the imagination encounters the practical solutions. It wasn’t because I wanted to stick out; on the contrary. It was mainly because of the frustration and boredom that comes when making a clean cut. It was because my mind really would wonder when exposed to a topic, looking at it from as many angles at possible. And no, that didn’t mean I was going in circles, because for me it was more about a sort of gradual exposure to a topic. About a perpetual search for different ways to inhabit a topic, from within, ever-changing, never resting, a dynamic quest in which myself and the rest would be in an infinite back and forth interaction, in a perpetual redefinition.
The same goes for my work. I am not an artist. I am not a non-artist. I am a researcher interested in illness narratives, using both scientific and artistic perspective and also giving back products of both a scientific and artistic matter. There is no other way, I guess, at least for me, as I feel there are no real boundaries between the two, just a blurry, foggy zone that we are still exploring, and my job is to search for the synapses, which are not yet visible to us.