Creativity
Creativity Is a Current, Not a Canvas
Most people think creativity is about making something new.
I think it’s about making something visible.
You don’t invent the wind.
You build the sail.
Or the anemometer.
Or the song that carries its voice.
Creativity, to me, is not decoration.
It is detection.
It’s the act of tuning your senses to the frequencies already moving through the world — the pulse of a power grid (Station Status), the rhythm of a MAC address (digital art as fingerprint), the silence between a child’s breath and a swimming stroke (Swim Teacher, always).
I don’t choose mediums.
I follow currents.
Sometimes that current flows through code.
Sometimes through cement.
Sometimes through a parrot named Captain who repeats my commands like a broken API.
I once poured concrete and wove it with old ethernet cables.
People called it sculpture.
I called it the internet, autopsied.
Because that’s what I do:
I dissect the invisible systems that shape us — data, memory, movement, fear — and reassemble them so others can see.
The Myth of the Single Discipline
They ask: Are you an artist? A coder? A builder? A DJ?
I say: I am a node in the network.
Because here’s the truth they don’t teach in schools:
All systems speak the same language.
You just have to learn how to listen.
- When I DJ in Dubai for 1000 people, I’m not just playing tracks.
I’m modulating a human frequency grid — syncing heartbeats to 128 BPM. - When I built the Swim App, I wasn’t just logging times.
I was mapping the fluid geometry of effort. - When I sent a book to the King of Norway, I wasn’t just mailing paper.
I was testing a cultural feedback loop — did the signal return? - When I trained parrots to say “Captain!”, I wasn’t just teaching words.
I was engineering interspecies UX.
Creativity isn’t confined to a studio.
It lives in the gaps between things —
between a real estate listing and a city’s soul,
between a cyberattack and a nation’s nervous system,
between a photograph and the light that took years to reach it.
I Build to Understand
I’ve driven excavators in KwaZulu Natal.
Built gated communities in Dubai.
Marketed Burj Dubai like it was a character in a film.
Because space is data made solid.
I’ve held advanced medical diving certifications, taught lifesaving at St Michael’s, and managed a scuba school.
Because breath is a system too — and panic is a failure state.
I’ve written 500 creative works.
Some are poems.
Some are Python scripts that generate haiku from network logs.
Some are sculptures that look like the cloud if the cloud had bones.
I don’t create to be prolific.
I create to trace the pattern.
Every project — 4Cast, Randpoint, Trusti, Bree Street, NERVE — is a probe, not a product.
I launch them into the world like sonar pings,
then listen for the echo.
The Art of the Invisible
On CNN, they called me a fashion photographer.
On French TV, Guy with Camera.
On national news, a cybersecurity expert.
They used different words.
But I was doing the same thing:
revealing what was already there.
The headless CMS?
It’s not just a tech trend.
It’s a philosophy — content freed from form, like a soul from a body.
That’s what I’ve been doing all along.
My art isn’t in the system.
It is the system — made visible.
So What Is Creativity?
To me, it’s this:
The courage to follow the signal —
even when it leads from a swimming pool to a server room,
from a Dubai skyscraper to a chicken farm in Sudan,
from a parrot’s cry to a king’s silence.
Creativity is not about talent.
It’s about tuning.
And the world is full of frequencies waiting to be heard.
You just have to stop calling them noise.