I go back to [the idea] that we are avoiding all of these unknowns, we're avoiding the night - most of us - we're avoiding the encounters, but we're also afraid to deal with something unknown, unseen.

Animals are always goddesses and gods, like the god Anubis. He's the one who's accompanying the souls to the next life, and he's the one who decides if they will be able to cross or not.

Animals are also the ones that are guarding the graves, and they are the ones who communicate between the dead and the alive.

I carry some kind of consideration and weight and observations about what is going on in the world, but I don't go to execute it.

We are getting used to levels of violence, we are getting used to seeing these horrific things going on all the time. I think it's tough. It's rough.

You look at them, the animals in the wild, and they stay the same. They have their rules which I cannot decipher, and there's something very strong about that, it's also unknown and for me unpredictable.

We're always trying to avoid being in the darkness, not knowing, and also encountering animals. There's something about them not wanting to be seen; they go out at night, they hide, they don't want to be shown. It's very interesting genetically that they have to hide from us actually. Between themselves, they smell each other, but there is this thing of hiding, of suspicion.