Hello,

formerly Alex, spiritually and intellectually HURRICANE ALEXANDER.

I built this webpage out of a compelling desire to share and elevate, shape the narrative, critique the culture, and ultimately beg the questions that need to be BEGGED. Questions such as, “Who am I,” and more importantly, “Why does it matter?” … Along with, “Wait … WHAT!?” (“What the hell is happening?” “What are you not saying?” “What do you do when you’re alone?”) …“WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!” (etcetera.) I want to dissect the bird, the bird that is my soul / your soul / the collective soul, break his beak and snip his wings, and still, WATCH HIM FLY! 

what can be said about the journey inward?

The journey inward towards the truest self is brutal. I can only contain myself for so long before I explode. I can only make art with rock bottom in mind. I can only see myself clearly when I'm at my worst. Sometimes a manic-depressive psychotic episode actually helps... with... something? Well, a break from reality can certainly strip away all these stupid societal pressures and all the lies and illusions of culture and legacy and media and life, and I saw myself for the first time very clearly, at 18, and I was so small, I was like nothing. I realize this: I am nothing at all. And along with that, I realized that I am, we are, precisely whatever we will ourselves to be. I am whatever I (can) will myself to be. There is nothing but growth. I said, let art impact you. I said let life impact you, but don't ever let someone else persuade you to believe ANYTHING. You do your own research. (You're good at doing research). And did you forget about courage? I said don't you FUCKING DARE forget about COURAGE!! I want you to manipulate your surroundings GENUINELY, from your gut, with the little nothing-you in control. And from the first realization comes the first CONTRADICTION, (any knowledge works to form a self); knowing I'm nothing makes me something, it's the beginning of something GREAT! And now to know that I'm something because I know that I'm nothing. And now to know that I'm something because I know that I'm nothing.

It’s come to the point where whatever society tells us is “art,” I immediately think is NOT art. Everything else, on the other hand, is potentially art … depending on how much we’re willing to open our minds/hearts. I have dedicated my life to endless experimentation, curiosity, adventure, and provocation (internal and external). I feel a deep sense of urgency when it comes to expressing the true human experience during moments of mental turmoil and psychological freefall. That’s why self-expression is so powerful; we get to say

ART. The body is a canvas, and the world is an exhibition, yadda yadda.

ART.

Remember?

As many artists know, creativity can be a cold-blooded curse! I am an individual with a wild imagination and a very sensitive soul; it has led to some moments of true clarity, enlightenment, and magic, but also years and years of on-and-off depression. It’s more obvious than ever that we are not only sick out of our minds, on an individual basis, but we are caught in a vast avalanche of sickness! My work aims to validate the ache that we’ve been taught is a flaw in our brains and our responsibility to fix, ridicule shallow self-help conversations and “healing” culture, point at the flaws in society, and say LOOK HERE, ASSHOLE, I’VE GOT SOME SHIT TO SAY.

My work is a visceral exploration of the human psyche, delving into themes of identity, trauma, and societal taboos. Drawing from personal experiences with bipolar disorder and depression, I create art that challenges viewers to confront uncomfortable truths about fear, sexuality, shame, and the complexities of self-deception, thus expanding the conversation about "real-life" and the forbidden fire of the soul. My artistic practice transcends traditional categories, blending elements of painting, sculpture, and performance into a unified whole to invite radical self-reflection. 

My creative process focuses on a consistent blurring and unblurring of the line between satire and tragedy, allowing playful absurdity to creep into spheres of paranoid horror. The fictitious evolution from gifted child to gifted adult self-destructs and radically mutates, along with my understanding of art itself, and my confounding desire to be, in its most extreme form, artless.

My art serves as a weapon against complacency, compelling audiences to question what is real and what is truly worthwhile. Through provocative imagery and raw emotion, I confront the darkest corners of human experience, making space for deeper, more meaningful introspection. 

I sincerely do not wish artistry upon anyone, but if you have the curse, you have the curse; someone’s got to be brave and try to communicate the things that nobody else has been able to. And I want to do it in a way that’s never been done. I make all kinds of art, from poetry to drawing, painting to sculpture, installation to noise … But I find that performance is the best way to get a message across. The work I love to make and want to see more of is raw, authentic, and sharp. I like work that lingers in people’s heads for weeks. I don’t mind asking a lot of my viewers. I strive to break free from numbness and engage with my own vulnerabilities and fears, and encourage my audiences to do the same. In doing so, I necessitate a radical rethinking of humanness and the boundaries that define us.

I’m SO SICK OF SHALLOW ARTWORK clogging up the pathway. POINT AT IT AND DEMAND BETTER!

I want to tell a story that is real, really real.

Remember?

What can be said about depression?

Well, there’s a lot that ISN’T being said, I can tell you THAT!

When people think about a hurricane, they usually imagine something more akin to a tornado. My work exists on this level too — ferocious, in-your-face, dangerous artwork. But past the initial

a full storm reveals itself. The power goes out, the roads flood, and you’re left home alone, in the dark, watching the lightning from your window.

I’ve started referring to my depression as ‘The Swamp,’ and I’m that Swamp Thing. 

Ring-Ring! Hello? Who is it? Existential terror? Hello? Fear turning into sadness turning to rot? Hello? Is anyone there?

All I hear is static.

I’ve started referring to my depression as ‘The Swamp.’

I’m the Swamp Girl, I’m the Swamp Zombie, I’m the Swamp Fox, I’m the Swamp Cat; 

I’m the Swamp Rat, Bitch! 

What’s up, Bitch?!

Alright.

On the shallowest level, my art is about me. On a deeper level, it’s about you, on a deeper-deeper level, it’s about me again, on a deeper-deeper-deeper level it’s about you, a more holistic “you,” and on an EVEN DEEPER level, it doesn’t really matter so much. And so there’s a significant amount of satire, irony, and absurdity in my work. It has to be this way. SO unserious and yet, so, so serious. There’s an abundance of man-made horror and hurt in the world, and my art certainly is not afraid to go all the way into those dark corners, shining a flashlight and saying, “I SEE!” But the real glory of my work comes from its complexity and its resilience in finding a path through the darkness by thinking far outside the box. The rules of society and the rules of art are MEANT TO BE BROKEN. 

It’s a funny world, but I’m not laughing. … (In fact, I think I might cry!) … 

SO, how did I arrive here?

I was born in Upstate New York, in the woods, where I developed a strong connection with the forest, with open fields, creaky floorboards, fog, and with the voices in my head. I was a bit of a tormented child, carrying a lot of shame and guilt from a very young age, yet I was gifted in many ways, excelling in music, sports, and school. By the end of high school, my mental health was declining rapidly, and I had given up on a lot of activities that once brought me joy. I ended up attending Cornell University, where I received my Bachelor's Degree in Viticulture and Enology (Winemaking and Grapegrowing) with a minor in LGBT Studies. Studying at an Ivy League institution changed my life completely. I learned first and foremost that I love intelligent people, that there are many types of intelligence, and that education is truly endless; there is so much to learn and unlearn. So it became a mission of mine to never stop learning, to look for signs, patterns, clues, information, etc., in the day-to-day. (So much can be learned from just looking into someone’s eyes, for instance.) Something else I learned at Cornell was that I’m a pretty bad student; I was barely passing classes and rarely attending them. From then on, my journey with medication began. I’ve been diagnosed with ADD, ADHD, depression, anxiety, and bipolar disorder. I do not stand by these labels anymore, but I still keep them in mind because I suffer with my brain, as we all do, sometimes in unbearable ways. (I like to believe I am inventing a new kind of depression.) As I was slipping into confusing and destructive cycles of paranoia and depression, I naturally started to perform in public and in fraternity backyards. What I perceived as me essentially saying “I give up,” “I’ve lost it,” was being perceived as something brave and unique. My performance work started gaining traction, and it became so clear to me: ART SAVES LIVES. I know that for certain because it saved mine.

I want my art to speak loudest to those of us who feel isolated and scared within society, those who feel extremely frustrated because their gifts aren’t recognized by the culture, and there's no proper outlet for their emotions, and those of us who have wanted to kill ourselves or have felt the weight of suicide. I hope to harvest the strange and grim headspace that exists at rock bottom and exhibit it in its true twisted magnificence so that anyone who is or has suffered immensely internally knows there’s hope. But we have to stay creative. And we have to stay open. And we have to stay CRITICAL.

In my final year at university, I studied abroad in Milan, Italy. I fell madly in love with an Italian man, as one does, and we performed my first large-scale piece BLOODBATH together at the iconic Macao collective. After my study abroad semester, I had to return to New York to get my degree. Love became my sole driving force in life. I spent over a year separated from my lover, but eventually made it to London, and then to Porto, Portugal, where we lived for two years. In that era of my life, my art was very much about jealousy, resentment, and heartache, which you can maybe pick up on in the I SAW MOMMY CRYING Collection. It took me a while to adapt to living with someone else and learning about polyamory and what it really means to love someone, etc. And of course, as an artist, I wanted my love to be as deep as deep can go, so this was a tremendous mission. I got used to not having any money and making art from garbage and things abandoned on the street. (One man’s trash really is another man’s treasure!!) Eventually, we got married on the beach in Portugal, and we moved to Berlin, Germany, which is where I currently live and work. 

What can be said about Berlin?

I love Berlin because it strips you bare. You don’t have a choice of whether you want to engage with the culture or whether you want to be this type of person or that; Berlin will grab you by your throat and command you to BE YOURSELF OR GET OUT. The city is ferocious and addictive and unhinged and full of freaks and weirdos, everyone on their personal journey towards their truest self. Push! Push! PUSH!!! We worship authenticity and outrageousness. We bow down to the bizarre and the boundary-pushing. Yes, the city is a utopia for anyone fed up with normality and searching for newness, but it is also very deep, dark, and sad. I will always stand by the thought that Berlin is itself an artwork. If you are looking for art, go to Berlin, but don’t go to any galleries or exhibitions. Open your eyes wide and see what you can see.

What can be said about Berghain?

I have been working as a bartender at Berghain for the past four years. … What can be said about Berghain?

There is a hole that needs to be filled. There is a hole that needs to be filled. There is a hole that needs to be filled.

As someone who is always wondering what’s next, what else, Berghain is a fantastic place to remind myself that there is more. More to feel, more to hear, more to learn. In moments of global instability, it is so important that we gather together, get naked, and RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE, CHALLENGE THE SYSTEM, SWEAT, CUM, COLLAPSE, AND DROOL. 

I credit the name HURRICANE to Star Island, a small rock in the Atlantic off the coast of Massachusetts. I spent a summer working at the old hotel there, cleaning toilets and making beds. A new conference would arrive at the hotel each week, and it was the chambermaids’ duty to direct the rest of the staff so that each room could be flipped in time for the next group of guests. This chaotic procedure was called THE HURRICANE. Little did I know this one word would mark the making of a monster.