I was attacked by a bird when I was 5, and as a result, I’ve been ornithophobic since. When I’m remotely near a bird (or even when I’m just looking at still photos of birds), I still get flashbacks of the incident. The rhetoric of freedom associated with flying birds has always been a contradiction for me, as it also represents a fear that is crippling. For many of us, this situation manifests itself as an unconscious fear of uncertainty; in love, at work, and in life. I started including birds in my artworks to question the relationship between fear and freedom, and to hopefully narrate the journey of. When dearest Guillaume Levy-Lambert suggested we use this as a dresscode to the exhibition, I have to admit I raised three eyebrows (along with all the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck), slapped him on the shoulders, and gave him a big fat, carby ‘NO’. Then I remembered that I need to take chances; to take steps forward, towards ‘freedom’ and empowerment, and I guess this is as good a time as any. Besides, when I woke up this morning and I realised that I ran out of coffee, I thought, “Wouldn’t it be perfect if I was Amy Adams in ‘Enchanted’ right now? I can just summon some pigeons to buy me some.”