We asked each artist in Cohort 3 a series of questions about how they navigate the world and express themselves through their practice. Here’s what Oluwaseni had to say:

Good: When did you first realize that making art was essential to how you move through the world?

Oluwaseni: Since elementary school I’ve loved to draw. I remember in detention we would have little competitions to see who could draw the best SpongeBob and Ben 10 characters from memory. So I’ve always really known that making art was something I could have fun with.

Good: What parts of yourself do you feel most seen in through your work?

Oluwaseni: I sometimes think about my looseness, particularly in how I paint. I take on a “born full” identity when I work and try to move with confidence when I paint. I don’t believe in eye service, so the “completeness” of the work depends on whether I like it or not.

Good: How has your understanding of your identity shaped the way you create?

Oluwaseni: I’m Nigerian, so I often feel like I need to be over the top—you know, very “dress to impress.” To combat that need to overcompensate, I try to avoid spoon-feeding my ideas or being lazy.

Good: What story do you think your younger self needed to see in art—and are you telling that story now?

Oluwaseni: I think so. The late ’90s and early 2000s Nollywood exposed me to a lot of beautiful, one-of-a-kind art and films. I think I wanted to see more of the love and loyalty dynamics, the ridiculous scenarios of the bad boy gangs, and the exploration of family. I want to make my own pictures of signs and wonders.

Good: How do you navigate the tension between visibility and vulnerability in your work?

Oluwaseni: I think sometimes visibility and vulnerability work hand in hand for me to get the message I want across, but there are also times when one has to give way to the other for the work to simply feel good.

Good: What is a misconception people have about your practice—or you—that your art helps correct?

Oluwaseni: A misconception I’ve gotten a bit is that the faces of some of the men in my paintings are me—they’re not. Another is that I paint in oil, but I actually use and love my acrylic paint.

Good: How do your surroundings—physical, cultural, emotional—show up in your work?

Oluwaseni: I love textures and tones in colors, and I love trying to replicate what I’ve seen on a walk or while waiting for the train. There’s so much I pick up about how time changes things in form, color, and size. I love it.

Good: If this chapter of your life had a title, what would it be—and how is that reflected in your current work?

Oluwaseni: My brain wan blow. Before I have a message, I want to play, so I’m focused on doing the things that will get me to where I am.

Good: What truth have you been circling in your work but haven’t said out loud yet?

Oluwaseni: Memes and the language of memes—that kind you’ll get in a second, but only if you’re in the know.

Good: If you had to strip everything back—materials, audience, career—what would remain at the center of your practice?

Oluwaseni: I just want to be happy, really. I think as long as I can have lasting joy and happiness with what I’m doing—happy in my creativity—then I can continue.