Nabes is that artist who never assumed he was an artist, but he always assumed his art was a particular form of madness. He's proudly barbaric, yet deeply civilized. Each piece he produces, whether we know it or not, is a mongrel mouthful of everything he likes. Graffiti, motorbikes, hip-hop, beer, the skatepark, the gym, and women. When he digs himself into a hole he doesn't climb out. He digs deeper, driven by the tension between his desire to communicate and the desire to hide, emerging out the other side ready to rise to the challenge. His intelligence is the sum of everything he taught himself by skipping class. A lover of truth, a worshipper of freedom, a celebrant at the altar of raising hell in the streets, and getting into trouble. That's his religion. Now he's young, he feels free. His teeth are clean. The sun shines. To hell with everything else.

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