In an interview, you mentioned that you prefer to deal with “isolated, inner worlds” rather than wider social commentary. How do you find and explore these isolated worlds, and what is the value you find in them?

In one of Artaud’s letters to his doctor, in the midst of the Second World War, he wrote that most of society’s problems come from individual inability to turn inward and confront oneself. In that sense, dealing with isolated inner worlds isn’t ignoring the broader social picture, but rather micro-focusing on its essence.

Collective catastrophes are thus a byproduct of individual boiling points and private failures. I mostly start with myself,

following Bernanos’ mantra that one should have no mercy while writing about themselves, and, as an author, that is probably the only way to build your own voice; the alternative is being perceived as ornament.

You said your artistic path was influenced by growing up during a war, with your first drawings being “exclusively military-based and violent.” How do you feel this formative experience continues to manifest in your art today?

It is only recently, through comparing myself to the childhoods of friends from other countries, that I started seeing how different my external environment truly was. I was never aware of that because, by all standards, I had a happy childhood. It was always in the details. Not only that kids collected actual bullets or played with commando knives, but there were also commercial products like collectible stickers of drawn Croatian army soldiers

together with NBA or soccer World Cup ones. So my affinity for uniforms, be it as fashion, design, or as a research subject, comes from that bizarre interlink of military and sports merchandise. Detecting the smallest distinctions in weapons, real or drawn, was probably my first form of design training.

Your collaboration with Boy Harsher explored the idea of “symbiotes” and their ability to influence their hosts’ “darkest desires.” What draws you to these themes of psychological and physical influence, or dualities in general?

I’m interested in the way we are driven by contradictions, or perhaps the way we get contradictory while trying to escape them. Deleuze’s schizo-theory, luxury fashion crafted to seem deteriorated, Boy Harsher bringing lethargic vocals to the dancefloor or Pusha T performing for execs in Paris; it is all the same coded approach, be it through words, materials, or sounds. All that is amplified in the digital realm, where our own performative identities seem like symbiotes of their own, and a lot of daily activities are made with content in mind, rather than content being a product of living. In that context, digital content becomes a third element in Bataille’s base maternalism; a disfigured hybrid of body and mind, a parasite invading both.