Red is the very colour of the human.
Beneath whatever we carry on the surface, we are all the same underneath. 

. . .

It is also a colour that cannot agree with itself—in the East it celebrates, in the West it warns.
I am drawn to that irresolvable contradiction, to a colour that holds opposing worlds simultaneously without asking them to choose. 

In my drawings, red is not decoration. It is the ground from which everything grows.