“Babel is my personal tower of confusion. A mixture, a mess, a fucking disorder in my life, in my thoughts. I don't have a clear idea about my future. I don't even have an idea for Saturday. I wake up and all I would do is save the animals, reforest Amazony, be a kung-fu fighter or a hip-hop dancer.
This babel of confusion, of languages, the many things I've done in life, the many I've never put through, are in my works as an artist. So, each work of mine could more honestly be called "incomplete" or "untitled #...", and I would be looking at it more quietly.
Ideas are sparks that come and go. More often they go and you cannot grab them completely keep them put them on a paper make them happen.
You have ideas great things you would do but money's not enough and so you try to patch together what you have but when you print and use video or electronics is not so easy.
What do I have? I have a lot of stuffs here. I try to figure out what I can get from them. I want to go social. I like social. But I have to sell, not to make revolutions.
What an artist can have for sale? Paintings, sculptures, photographs? Or videos. Why doesn't he sell himself like a bag, or shoes?
Wallpaper! Toilet paper! What else could I offer? I could sell me per meter or per kilos.
I like it!
Merchandising! That's the way!
And I start working on it. I'm here in my new studio. Sometimes someone pops up and says: good idea, great, I love it, but what about doing it this way?
Go fuck you!
Why don't you open your fucking studio and start making artworks on your own?!
I love this job!”
Marc Vincent Kalinka