1. What trends do you see shaping the visual and commercial arts world right now?

We’re living in an age where people are trying to make themselves immortal through technology — digitalizing their faces, cloning their voices, turning creation into code. It’s fascinating but also deeply strange. There’s that Black Mirror episode where an actress sells her digital likeness, and the system runs her identity into the ground — I can see that happening in real life.

It feels like we’re due for a cultural reset. Everything’s so performative, so polished, so fragile. Art used to provoke; now it treads carefully. I think we need a new “Wild Wild West” era — not chaos, but courage. A moment where artists reclaim imperfection, community, and truth as sacred spaces again.

Real art — the kind that unites people — happens when honesty returns to the room.

2. How do you think culture influences an artist or designer’s work?

Culture is the canvas. It’s lived experience turned into collective language. Every artist is a mirror of the world they move through — their surroundings, their people, their struggles, their joy.

Imagine taking fifty kids from privilege and fifty from poverty, handing them the same tools, and asking them to create the same piece. What you’d get isn’t about skill — it’s about story. That’s the beauty of culture: it shapes the emotional temperature of art.

That’s why with Aethera, I’m not just building a brand — I’m trying to build a cultural ecosystem. One that celebrates individuality but connects through community. I want to host Aethera art contests, installations, and workshops where people from every background reinterpret the Starburst symbol in their own medium. Because culture doesn’t live in a vacuum — it thrives where people gather, create, and reflect together.

3. Can you talk about the intersection between art, community, and identity in your work?

Everything I create begins as a conversation — between the past and the present, the individual and the collective. Art without community has no audience; community without art has no heartbeat.

I think of places like cities, galleries, or even digital spaces as living art forms. Architecture, streetwear, sculpture, and storytelling all shape how we move and connect. My dream is to build a world under the Aethera name that feels like an ethereal ecosystem — where community becomes part of the artwork itself.

It’s not about making art for people; it’s about making art with people. That’s the intersection that drives me both creatively and spiritually.

4. How do you approach blending traditional and modern influences in your pieces?

I don’t see tradition and modernity as opposing forces — they’re echoes of one another. The past gives me structure; the future gives me vision.

If you look at something like Star Trek, those sleek, silicone-like uniforms weren’t just costumes — they were forecasts of possibility. That’s how I view design. It’s about creating work that feels timeless but still ahead — something that honors the lineage of craft while building a visual language for what’s next.

Through Aethera, I want to use traditional craftsmanship — embroidery, metalwork, tailoring — to build a futuristic aesthetic. A blend of tactile humanity and technological optimism. Because in the end, community thrives when the past and future meet somewhere human in the middle.

5. What role does education and collaboration play in your creative process?

Art, to me, is a shared curriculum — every collaboration, every conversation, every failure teaches something. I want Aethera to function not just as a brand, but as a learning hub — a place where people can experiment, workshop, and co-create.

I’d love to develop immersive programs that blend fashion, technology, and fine art — open studios, maker nights, panel discussions — because real innovation happens in shared space. The future of culture depends on how we educate the next wave of creators not just to produce, but to feel again.

6. What impact do you hope Aethera has on the broader art and design community?

My hope is that Aethera becomes proof that art and commerce can coexist without compromise — that design can be both futuristic and soulful. I want to create spaces, physical or digital, where people feel seen, inspired, and challenged.

If we can build something that sparks someone else to create — a painting, a poem, a hoodie, a movement — then we’ve done our job. That’s the point of all this: to remind people that art isn’t a product; it’s a pulse.