My sister has this theory that I'm making a self-portrait over and over again. But I've told her she's not a critic or historian, so I don’t have to … - Ayobola Kekere-Ekun

I don't know what would have happened if I had never gotten that flyer. I don't know what would have happened if I had folded instead of rolling it. You know, it was a really, really really random discovery!

Sometimes I think about pieces for months or years before I actually do anything about them. But once the idea is resolved, then I get to my favourite part, which is the planning. And that's basically where I decide everything about the physicality of the work. Colours, what papers to use, grammage fabrics, texture, what details need to come in, what tools, what materials. And then I start building what I call the skeleton, which is the initial outline. The first layer of colours, outlines for figures, that sort of thing. And if I am not excited about the skeleton, I don't continue. It's not gonna go well. Fortunately, that doesn't happen very often, because it's kind of sad when it does. But I've also learned the hard way there's no point forcing the work. It’s a waste of time, and it does a disservice to me and the work really. It's unkind to try to force something to be.

I'm perfectly fine with never figuring out what it is. Because, it’s a matter of what ifs. What if understanding those intangible qualities or variables that make my work what it is gives the power to actively shape my practice? But what if knowing the tangibility of the intangible compromises the spirit of the work? It's a bit a bit of a Pandora's box type thing. Like, it could be hella cool. But it could also not.