The world I spend my childhood in has no museums or art galleries. It’s a world made of concrete, and staircases where artists spray their art in the street and on the walls inside my building.

Their freestyle attracts me like a magnet. Inside my social housing complex, doors are broken and hallways smell of urine but the walls are alive. They scream the anger, the dreams and love declarations that artists spray there for us to see. Drawings of some get day after day covered or transformed by others.

This permanent evolution fascinates me as much as it leaves my father indifferent.

As far as he is concerned, art can only be seen in museums and collections. His devaluing of what I love is hurtfull.

Although drawing and tagging is my lifeline, I don’t admit my urge to create. I need art to help me question the world and my pain. Through street art I feel I can speak my truth.

When a piece of art “gets to me”, I see my reality transported inside the artist’s imagination. My emotions rise up and push me to face my fears and use them as strengths.

I start revisiting comics, images from films I love and street art pieces. I create with urgency, instinctivly. Most of my work is a wink to polo. A sport I wouldn’t have dared to dream of playing as a child. A passion that imposed itself upon me, completely out of touch with the world I come from. 

A week-end, visiting my parents, I show my father one of my drawings. “What do you expect me to do with that” is his first reaction, followed by ongoing criticism.

That day my drawings fought their first naysayer and my sight got clear. I create to challenge everything I heard growing up.

Life is a game. Dreams are within reach.

Polo represents a certain lifestyle, playing polo is madness on all levels. It’s extravagant, dangerous, exhilarating and addictive. It’s a gift you give yourself out of passion, to let go, to live fully. Each of my drawings is an anthem to this craziness. One represents the frenzy of a polo player who is constantly changing hemisphere to live an eternal summer and participate in all the tournaments of the world.

Another is dedicated to the euphoria, to the pure physical pleasure felt by the players who throw themselves after the ball.

Printed on T-shirts, these images are worn like armor. It is said that Mayan warriors drew their courage from pectoral jewelry to find the strength to protect their sacred sites. On our Street Art T-shirts, the emblematic red dragon and white horse of the Maison Claude & Storz protect and cultivate in an explosion of color what we have most precious : our inner child.