For over twenty years, I’ve body-painted people and put my work out
into the world. I’ve watched technology and social media reshape how
art circulates and who gets to see it. These tools make reaching
people easier than ever, but they don't come without consequences. And
now, with the rise of AI, the terrain feels even more complicated.

Social media brought a real audience to my work. But it also brought
hate, trolls, and quiet resistance. People tell you to grow a thick
skin, that it means “you’re doing something right.” What they don’t
tell you is that visibility makes everything harder. Success breeds
resentment. Artistic nudity invites scrutiny. Some people don’t argue,
they report. The higher you climb, the more others will pull you back
down. I’ve never understood that impulse. It’s hard enough to succeed
as an artist. When someone does, we should celebrate it, not condemn
it.

As AI and platform policies shift, years of past acceptance have given
way to zero tolerance. I label my work clearly as 18+ and follow
YouTube’s guidelines, yet the platform removes videos and denies
appeals. No conversation, just censorship.

So I started asking myself:
Does YouTube define my work?
Have I become too dependent on these platforms?
Does artwork only exist if someone sees it?

I’ve always chosen curiosity over fear. I focus on what technology
offers instead of getting swallowed by panic or nostalgia.

Still, I admit an undeniable desire to go back to the way things were.
Before sponsorships and money played a role. Before likes and
subscriber counts mattered. Back when the work belonged entirely to me
and no one paid attention. I explored like a kid, driven by genuine
curiosity, thinking, “Wow, that’s cool!”

This collection applies augmented reality, something that recently
captured my attention. It brings static photography to life right
before you. Body paintings that once existed for a fleeting moment,
preserved, documented, and now transformed via technology.

I invite you to spend time with this work, this ephemeral art-form on
an organic canvas. Capture it on your device. Share it if you like.
But try to see it through my eyes, with my intentions. Anything else
may be a projection suggesting you are who you think I am.