Ideally, I spend the early part of the day working alone in my studio—from morning until early afternoon. As an introvert, I really need that quiet stretch to myself. Later in the day, I like to go on little adventures with my kids and my partner. My favorite spots are along the banks of the Danube, outside the city. Sometimes our friends join us too. We chat and have a beer in the evening while the kids play, until it’s time for bed.

I grew up in the countryside, riding my bike all day and exploring the world around me. There was an old abandoned castle in the village that fascinated me throughout my childhood. I’d often wander around it, imagining what life must have been like there in the past.

My parents did their best to discourage me from taking this career seriously, but by the time I was 16, I’d made up my mind—I was going to do it, no matter what they said. My teenage years were pretty rough, and eventually they had to accept that I wasn’t interested in anything else and couldn’t be pushed in another direction.

Almost every day, I’m reminded that my time isn’t infinite. And then there’s that feeling—when something I’ve imagined becomes tangible for the first time, literally taking shape. That is what I love most about art.

I like it when my work can be both playful and serious at the same time—when it speaks to the funny and serious sides of life, and shows that both matter. I really don’t like it when someone only ever emphasizes one or the other.

Human evolution. The path we took to get here.

Louise Bourgeois. She was amazing.

Paper and pencil—that’s how it all begins. It’s the simplest, quickest way to jot something down or sketch out an idea. Without that kind of spontaneity, I feel like everything that follows would take a different shape.

When I’m planning or making important decisions, I don’t listen to anything. But once I’m deep in the implementation phase for days at a time, I usually have podcasts on—and sometimes even audiobooks. Of course, I also listen to music. My current favorite is Amyl and the Sniffers, a pub rock/punk band from Melbourne.

As a female artist you cannot have kids.

Palazzo Strozzi in Florence.

Lambrusco. Or beer.

Procrastination.

Budapest. After all these years, I’m just too attached to leave.

It might not be the most adventurous thing out there, but camping out on top of a 10-story apartment building after a night of partying definitely felt like one.

A long, hot shower—it makes me feel reborn and clears my head. I often get new ideas in moments like that. Long, aimless walks help too.

“For an artist, you’re pretty smart.” It’s a pretty rude thing to say, but someone actually said that to me recently—and I took it as a compliment. My friends just about died laughing when I told them.