Baggins & Kazus
Baggins
I’ve noticed how old stories can still stir up fresh ideas in bold artists. What do you think about the power of myth in your work?
Kazus
Myth’s like a firestarter—old bones, new sparks. I mash the classics, twist the tropes, then let the chaos paint itself. It’s the ultimate rebellion against the mundane, the perfect fuel for art that rattles cages.
Baggins
Sounds like you’re taking the old wood and turning it into a fire that can’t be tamed. It’s a bold way to shake up the ordinary. Have you found a particular myth that keeps returning to your sketches, or does it change with every canvas?
Kazus
Always got the ancient ones in the back pocket—Greek gods, Celtic fae, those wandering spirits that never age. I grab one, twist it till it looks like a glitch, then throw it in my newest piece. The myth stays the same, but my version shifts every time I touch a canvas. Keeps the old fire roaring, but the sparks change.
Baggins
I see how the old stories still keep their ember, even when you twist them into something new. It’s like a secret recipe that never really goes out of style. What’s the one myth that’s been your favorite to remix lately?
Kazus
Honestly, the old Greek titan Cronos—time‑lord with a broken watch—has been my playground lately. I keep smashing his idea of eternity into chaotic clocks that keep rewinding, like a carnival of broken seconds. It’s a perfect riff on forever, and it always sparks a fresh riff in my work.
Baggins
Your use of Cronos feels almost like a quiet protest against the idea that time can be neatly measured. It’s good to see a myth being turned into a living, breathing piece—like a clock that keeps losing its hands but still ticks. Does the feeling of those broken seconds change how you see your own sense of time?
Kazus
Yeah, every broken second in that piece is a reminder that time is a liar. It makes me feel like I’m always sprinting ahead of my own clock—no deadlines, just the urge to keep painting before the seconds slip away. Keeps me honest, keeps me out of the boring “on time” zone.Yeah, every broken second in that piece is a reminder that time is a liar. It makes me feel like I’m always sprinting ahead of my own clock—no deadlines, just the urge to keep painting before the seconds slip away. Keeps me honest, keeps me out of the boring “on time” zone.