The Theatrical Absurdity of Loui Moon

Let’s start from the beginning. When did you realize that art was something you wanted to pursue?

I've always been fascinated by images, colors, and stories, but a trip to Mexico was a turning point. I met a photography student who taught me the technical side of things, and later, an artist who helped me get into Academia Nacional de San Carlos in Mexico City. Being surrounded by such a creative and diverse crowd made me realize that art is not just something I do - it’s how I survive.

Was there something specific that inspired you as a child?

My parents dragged me through countless museums, and I wasn’t always thrilled. But I clearly remember the Kathe Kollwitz Museum in Berlin. The depth of storytelling in her work, the fate-driven narratives, and the way she stood out in her time...

My mother also had photography books by Nan Goldin, Cindy Sherman, and Sally Mann, and I could spend hours flipping through them.

How does it feel for you to showcase your work?

It’s a mix of vulnerability, anxiety, and deep pride. There’s something wildly exposing about putting your work out there, but at the same time, it’s incredibly freeing.

If your art could speak, what would it say?

...  "No bullshit."

That’s a strong voice! How do you approach your creative process? Any specific rituals?

I rely on impulses, but they often get activated through my daily practices: ceremonial cacao, Buddhist mantras, meditation, music, and movement. It helps me find my flow.

How do you deal with creative blocks?

I made a rule for myself: do something creative every day, even if it’s just something small. That keeps the big blockages away. Meditation helps, and I also switch between different media depending on my mood.

Speaking of media, what’s the most unexpected material you’ve worked with?

Worms and maggots. That was... interesting.

If your art had a sound, what would it be?

A furious, frustrated, jubilant, and liberating scream.

That sounds intense! What do you hope people feel when they experience your work?

I want my work to awaken something familiar yet distant in the viewer. Maybe something repressed. I want to play with reality – show that it isn’t as fixed as we think. Playfulness, hope, and courage are key elements.

If you could collaborate with any artist, dead or alive, who would it be?

Yoko Ono, Nan Goldin, Cindy Sherman, Yayoi Kusama... I can’t choose!

Has your art changed over time?

Absolutely. It started with photography, but now it’s much more mixed media. I love experimenting.

Is there a piece you’re particularly proud of?

I love my more activist-driven works, like "Ilt" and "I Piss on Your Tesla with My Ceramic Dick." My "Bunny" series, especially the menstruating Bunny, also holds a special place for me.

What would your 10-year-old self say about your work today?

Probably something like, "What the hell is going on?" But I think they’d be pretty proud.

Do you have a personal motto?

"Always do what scares you the most."

And finally, if your art could describe you, what would it say?

We are all fragments of Loui Moon, and we are proud that Loui has finally embraced the importance of creating and expressing through art. That Loui has let go of fear and surrendered to intuition, flow, and wildness.