THINKFORWARD: So the first question I’d like to get out of the way is why monkeys? What’s your fascination with monkeys?

BOBO: I find them infinitely interesting. I think that when we see monkeys in a zoo or what have you, we have an instant connection with them. This, I feel is the reason why we find them so funny, especially when we see them engaging in behavior that we consider to be ‘human’. In a way, when we laugh at them, we really are laughing at ourselves...Yeah, I know that what I just said is nothing new, but basically, this is the thing that interests me about drawing and painting monkeys—that instant recognition that people have with them.

TF: Why do you sign your pictures as Bobo?

BOBO: I had a girlfriend a few years back who gave me that nickname. She thought my name was too formal sounding, so she shortened my name to Bobo. I thought it was very cute. No one else called me Bobo, but her. It was, you know, her private name for me. When I started drawing these pictures, I thought it would be nice to go with a personality that matches their playful style, so the name Bobo seemed very fitting.

TF: Can you tell us a little bit more about you, and how you ended up in Wall Street?

BOBO: Oh, Boy. Where should I start? I’m from Jersey. I have two brothers. Cops, both of them. Drives my folks crazy. I, on the other hand, wanted to have nothing to do with law enforcement. I was always more interested in material things. I wanted to make money. Lots of it, you know what I mean? My idea was to go to Wall Street right out of high school, and make a million dollars. It sounds so shallow when I say it like that. But that’s what was on my mind. So that’s what I did. I went to Wall Street, got a job as a janitor, and from that perspective got to see more or less how things worked. Little by little I moved up, meeting people, making friends here and there, staying out of trouble, and fast-forward two years, I was on the floor trading commodities. I could make it a long story, but that’s really all you need to know about it. It's pretty much the American dream come true.

TF: Did you get to make your million dollars?

BOBO: (smiles) Well, let's just say that I did okay with money. I made some, I lost some. Actually I lost lots, but nothing to get too depressed about. I'm in Californa, for crying out loud. You can't help but be happy here with all this sun and beautiful people, right?

TF: Has your attitude towards money changed because of your experience in Wall Street?

BOBO: People have a funny way of dealing with money; I mean, during my entire professional life, I’ve been around people whose livelihood is the acquisition of money. That is, to these people money IS the business, not a byproduct of their business. So you can imagine how seriously people can get about the act of manipulating money. It’s such a distorted view of the world. And at the opposite end, you have people my age who are utterly clueless about how to make money, or more importantly, how to keep it. There is an imbalance there, somewhere. That’s one of the things I’d like to explore in the things I paint and write about.

TF: Can you tell us about your work as an artist?

BOBO: (laughs) Oh yeah. Sorry. It’s just that I still don’t really think of myself as an artist. I don't know...I get very self-conscious when people start referring to me as an artist.

TF: Is it because you weren’t formally trained?

BOBO: Yeah, I guess, now that you mention it. I mean, my skill-set is fairly limited. I just kind of doodle, you know? But I do have a clear point of view, and I guess that’s what catches people’s eye when they see my work. The pieces I do are sort of snapshots of how people feel in the course of a day or a moment: Love, fear, happiness, attractiveness...I know that sounds very generic, but it’s the best way I can describe what I do. I want people to look at my work, and recognize a part of themselves in a humorous way.

TF: How did you end up in LA?

BOBO: That’s a long story. But one major factor was that I wanted to get as close as possible to the birthplace of skateboarding as I understood it. I wanted to see if that culture was still alive and kicking in this city.

TF: Well, what did you find?

BOBO: Well, it's definitely here, but it's a lot younger than I would have expected. But that's okay, because once I got here, I became interested in other things. Of course, I still go 'boarding, and I hope I'm still doing it when I'm like eighty. It's so much fun.

TF: How did you get started tagging?

BOBO: Ugh! I hate that word. I suppose what I did in the begining is considered tagging, but definitely not anymore. Nowadays, I just think of it as painting. But to answer your question, I don't even remember. I tell you, when you're not having to work, you have a lot of time to entertain the craziest of ideas. Painting was just one of those things that I tried, and it just kind of stuck.

TF: How do you go about picking the places where you like to paint?

BOBO: Oh, that's easy. I generally like to pick bright, open spaces that lend themselves to framing my work in the most flattering way possible. Of course, those places also happen to be the most difficult to be able to paint on, precisely because they're so visible. Do you know what I mean?

TF: Do you get any help with painting your installations?

BOBO: Oh sure. I couldn't do it on my own, no way. I have a group of friends who help me out, and when I'm short-handed, I hire day workers. There is a group of guys I particularly like because they give me the scoop on where to catch soccer games locally. There is no shortage of people looking for work in LA, so I never worry.

TF: Have you ever gotten into trouble for vandalism?

BOBO: I've been lucky, but I did have this one very close call which really shook me up. I found this yellow building that just happened to be a funeral home. But the walls...oh,man, they were just screaming to be painted on! I went home, and I made as conservative a design as I could think of--you know, given that this was a funeral home and all. The following night, we were painting on the building. It took us until 4 or 5 in the morning to finish it. Well, next day when I saw the mural, I was so happy with the result, that I thought I'd come forward and tell the people in the funeral home that I had done it. What the hell was I thinking? Anyway, they were not in the least amused. They nearly called the cops on me. I had to agree to repaint the wall and pay a 'remorse' fee right on the spot. I was upset at first, but I came to my senses pretty fast. I mean, this is a place where people have to go into to make some hard decisions. Besides that, I realized that this establishment could seriously lose business because of what I had done. I coulndn't live with that. I had to sort of step up and be an adult about the whole thing, you know? So the big lesson for me as a result is that I decided to never again paint on private property without first asking for permission. Hence my dislike for the word 'tagging'. I don't tag, I paint. With permission.

TF: How has this decision affected your work?

BOBO: Well, it obviously slows me down quite a bit, because now I have to spend all this time trying to convince people to see things my way. You know, it's a very humbling experience, because I have to hear the word "no" a lot more often than I would like. But I get to have a clear conscience, and for that reason alone all the hastle is worthwhile.

TF: How long does your work stay up? I've driven to some of the locations where your work is said to be on display, only to find that it's been painted over.

BOBO: Right. Well, that's the other side effect of getting actual permission to paint on these spaces. In most cases, we draw up contracts that stipulate the lenght of time the work will be visible. After that time, I have to put things back the way they were, so to speak.

TF: Do people ever change their minds?

BOBO: Oh sure. It happens from time to time. And when it does, we draw up another contract just to be sure that that's what they really want. You know, the crazy thing is that it's all become very business-like, which is one of the things that I was trying to get away from in the first place. The element of spontaneity I enjoyed so much in the early days is lost in a way.

TF: What's your next project?

BOBO: Speaking of spontaneity, I'm not really sure. I may have to slow down since I'm now attending classes at Santa Monica College. Lately, though, I've been experimenting with works on a much smaller scale, which is kind of weird, but I think they have their own charm. I've also been playing with adhesives that I can stick on store windows. In terms of getting permission to get those types of things up, I have to say that I have a much easier time with the small, removable stuff. So who knows which direction I'll be taking.

TF: Okay, so, in typical thinkforward fashion, I must ask you how you feel about the future, and what you're doing to prepare for it.

BOBO: I think the future is very bright indeed. I'm looking forward to the next couple of years. I'm certain that eventually I'll find my way back to the financial world in some fashion. But before that, I want to get my bachelor's degree, just because I want to make sure that I didn't miss out on getting a formal education. I'd like to be able to give back to society in some way. I think that all this work I'm doing going around Los Angeles painting in public spaces is one way in which I see myself giving back to society. How does my work help society you ask? I don't know. But I do know that people generally smile when they come face to face with these oversized monkey figures. That's gotta be worth something, right?

TF: If you had any advice to give a young person, what would that be?

BOBO: Hmm. I don't know. I suppose I'd tell them to nurture their passions, and to get serious about their education. I mean, those two things combined can open so many doors.