Interview with Neon Sandwich

Can you tell me about Neon Sandwich? Who is Neon Sandwich, and where is he from?

Neon Sandwich is from Montreal, Canada, though I spent many years growing up in the United States. The name “Neon Sandwich” is its own art form—open to interpretation. For me, it evokes the vibe of a 1950s diner: the glow of neon lights, hamburgers, french fries, milkshakes, and the feeling of being 18 again, out with your friends or sweetheart.

The “sandwich” represents inclusivity—something for everyone, not exclusive like caviar. The “neon” adds a sense of energy and uniqueness. It’s inviting, vibrant, and glowing, but not overpowering. Neon Sandwich is about balancing the everyday with the special—an “everyday special” that’s both memorable and approachable.

When did Neon Sandwich start?

Neon Sandwich began around 1998 or 1999, during the early dot-com boom when everyone was scrambling to register domain names. A friend of mine said, “All the good names are taken.” I replied, “No, they’re not—Neon Sandwich!” That same night, I registered the name to make sure it was mine. It turned out to be a great decision. Since then, I’ve been Neon Sandwich—both as a domain and as an artist—for over two decades.

How did it start, and what’s the difference between works like Powdered Water, the meditative Lotus Series, and Baby Buddha?

My work is divided into three distinct approaches. Pieces like Powdered Water and Wasabi are inspired by broadcast and mass media—products on shelves, TV commercials, and billboards. I wanted to create quirky, slightly odd “products” that look like ad campaigns approved by an ad exec, yet remain playful and offbeat, with a polished, professional aesthetic.

The Lotus Series takes a different angle. It’s about shifting focus. While we often celebrate iconic figures like politicians or artists, we overlook everyday heroes—mechanics, technicians, or even the kind person at the store. This series emphasizes equality in recognition. Each piece shows a meditating figure, with unique heads representing individuality. Responses to this series vary widely, from laughter to deep emotional reactions, even tears.

Baby Buddha, on the other hand, is deeply personal. It’s inspired by my relationship with my Chinese master since the late ‘90s and blends Taoist ideas of soft and hard energy. The soft features—eyes, nose, ears—represent compassion and simplicity, while the angularity in the eyes acknowledges life’s challenges. It’s a symbol of self-compassion and grounding, offering a sense of peace and stability in an increasingly complex world.

Can you tell us about your art? What inspires it, and what’s the story behind it?

My art is shaped by a few key influences. One is my Canadian side—a desire to bring good vibes, positivity, and connection into the world. Another is my early love of Greek mythology, which inspired the iconic and meditative elements in series like Baby Buddha and the Meditation series.

I see my work as messaging rather than traditional “mark-making.” It’s about creating clean, simple, and memorable messages—similar to the iconic “I NY” design. Simplicity and clarity are central to my art.

Humor is also a big part of what I do. From the Lotus series to playful ideas like Powdered Water (“Just Add Water”), there’s always a touch of British comedy. Meanwhile, the softer elements, like the Baby Buddha, lean into good vibes and warmth.

How do you feel about your art and its emotional impact?

Art is about feelings, not just words. My mom used to say, “People forget what you do or say, but they never forget how you made them feel.” The Baby Buddha is all about that feeling—it’s not tied to words but to an emotional response, whether personal, family-related, or from a neighborhood. In these times, good feelings are crucial, and my art aims to evoke that.

What’s the concept behind your Lotus series and the Baby Buddha?

The Baby Buddha is inspired by Taoism and my training with my Chinese master. It’s the soft, compassionate side of my work. The Lotus series, on the other hand, is harder—it’s the rock-and-roll side, asking why we revere certain people while forgetting others. It’s a critique of societal views on power and violence, especially the way male aggression is often glorified.

In both series, I’m promoting self-compassion, reflection, and the understanding that it’s okay for men to be soft and relaxed. It’s not about toughness—it’s about evolving beyond outdated, primal instincts. The Baby Buddha, in particular, is meant for peace and connection, symbolizing qualities like earth, water, and housing, which anyone can relate to.

What about the more controversial subjects in your art?

The Lotus series has received mixed reactions because it includes figures like Hitler and Putin, which is controversial. But, like the Church of the Subgenius in the 1970s, I believe in free expression and the power of art to challenge. Art isn’t just entertainment; it’s a service. My work is meant to educate, reflect, and even provoke thought. For example, combining Hitler with meditation imagery might seem contradictory, but it forces us to look at history and its impact on today’s world.

I also draw on the intellectual traditions of British comedy, like Monty Python, blending humor and critique. Ultimately, I design my work to be simple and recognizable, making sure it connects on a personal and emotional level with everyone who sees it.

And how does the spirituality (quite literally) come to the picture?

In honoring my Chinese master, I deeply immersed myself in his teachings, particularly focusing on Chinese palm reading. This journey not only shaped my practice but also inspired much of the artwork you see today. My path began almost immediately after learning, with my first creations reflecting powerful figures like Hitler, Manson, Gandhi, George Bush, and Bin Laden. Soon after, I was out on the streets, reading palms, counseling people, and performing comedy and art—blending spiritual guidance with creative expression.

For about 20 years, I continued reading palms, helping countless individuals. But over time, I became exhausted by the constant giving—helping others while struggling to sustain myself financially. I noticed other tarot card readers around me, many of whom I felt lacked integrity. While some may have had a genuine approach, I began to feel disconnected from the work and noticed that I wasn’t nourishing myself the way I needed to.

I traveled extensively, bringing my palm reading skills to cities like New York, Austin, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Montreal, Vancouver, and Guadalajara. But eventually, after many years, I hit a wall. I had read thousands of palms and felt I had honored my master’s teachings to the fullest. I’d run the course and completed that marathon.

At that crossroads, I was faced with a choice: should I continue reading palms and honor my master, or should I shift focus to selling my artwork, which had always been a part of my journey? The palm reading, while spiritually fulfilling, had become draining, and I realized I couldn’t sustain both paths. So, I chose to honor my master by letting go of the ego and turning to the artwork I had begun. In doing so, I continued to serve others, but in a different form. Helping people in this new way brought me joy, and even if I only helped one person, I considered it a spiritual victory.

How did your upbringing and childhood influence your work?

I grew up in an entrepreneurial family, and I started working at a young age. My dad, a self-made millionaire with planes, buses, and property, wasn’t very giving, so I had to earn my own money. My first job was building a shoeshine kit, and from there, I worked a variety of jobs—operating a tractor, chainsaw, and even living a bit of a mountain life. I love being hands-on and can do everything from riding horses to using heavy machinery. In fact, I have a strong preference for John Deere tractors over Ford ones—don’t surprise me with a Ford!

My mom was a fashion designer and distributor at the King Edward Hotel in Toronto, and I was exposed to business and image from a young age. Much of my artwork pays homage to her business mindset and creative vision. I’ve always had a passion for merchandise, connecting with people, and I love putting ideas on things like T-shirts. I guess you could say I’m a merchandise guy at heart.

What is your approach to merchandising, and how do you feel about Neon Sandwich merch?

For me, merchandising is about sharing the message in my art. I want people to engage with the art itself, not just the brand. I spent some time in Berlin, a city that’s far from “holly jolly,” and I spray-painted my Baby Buddha in various spots without the Neon Sandwich name attached. I wanted people to experience the image on its own, without any branding. It felt graceful to let the art speak for itself in that context.

Now, I’ve started including the name on the merchandise, but the core idea remains the same: it’s about sharing the message and the vibe of the art with others. I also see merch as a way to make art more accessible, allowing people to carry or wear something meaningful. My art is meant to be experienced in different ways, and putting it on merchandise allows for a broader connection.

I don’t want my work to be too high-brow or too low-brow—I aim for middle-brow. I want my work to be at truck stops on Route 66; that’s the sandwich part of Neon Sandwich. My work is simple imaging. It’s not overly intellectual—if it were, I’d be creating different kinds of narratives. I want it to be approachable, yet still carry meaning and a message that people can connect with. Whether it’s on a t-shirt or another piece of merch, it’s about making art accessible and relatable.

There is a wide range of Neon Sandwich Goods, Which one is your favourite?

My favorite piece from the Neon Sandwich collection is the bandana—it’s really special to me. But if I had to pick a clothing item, it would be the t-shirts. I love well-crafted shirts with high-quality prints, especially when they feature unique, color-separated designs. I’m particularly fond of the psychedelic pink pussy and dark blue combination in the Charles Manson piece, where the background color gives off a vibrant energy, and the blue of the Tai Chi uniform complements it. I’m also drawn to secondary colors, like yellow and gray, because they feel harmonious and unexpected. However, the real satisfaction comes from seeing others wear my pieces. There’s a deeper sense of fulfillment when people connect with the art and wear it as a statement of just rightness. It feels like a job well done, and I appreciate those moments of connection.

Your journey is truly colourful. What brought you to Europe?

When in Los Angeles, I found myself going through some rough patches. I was sleeping in my car, dealing with toxic roommates—one of whom was an ex-con, ex-boxer. The first night I arrived, he sat me down and grilled me, asking if I was “crazy” or if I would hurt his kid. Sleep-deprived and barely awake, I was caught off guard, but I assured him I wasn’t a threat. A week later, he shared that he used to fight people who looked like me in the ring, with the same long arms and legs. I appreciated the honesty, though it was a strange conversation. Despite the tough start, I ended up becoming friends with him, and his kid was great too. It was exhausting at times, but I managed to save up some money.

I had always dreamed of going to Europe, so I decided it was time. I wanted to experience the cities, do some street art, and leave my mark with pieces like the Baby Buddha. Europe appealed to me for its close-knit train ride cities and rich culture. My goal was to travel around, get known, and maybe even have my own moment, similar to something iconic like Jimi Hendrix’s.

And how’s been Barcelona treating you? What is it like in here?

Right now, I’m living in a squat in El Born, Barcelona. It’s been a challenging time with another difficult roommate, and the lack of sleep has made me dizzy from deprivation. I’m definitely feeling the burnout, but I keep pushing forward with bravery. Even though it’s tough, I also feel really fortunate. My art isn’t just for me anymore—it’s about community, collaboration, and learning to step back, allow others to bring their skills, and accept help. I think I’ve been fortunate to get to this point.

Living in Barcelona has had its bumps, but I’m building a good reputation. People are happy to see me, meeting new peeps, and I’m finding joy in simple moments—laughter, smiles, meditation. To me, life is just a series of moments, and it’s all about having as many of those moments where both myself and others feel good.

You’re starting a crowdfunding campaign. What are your expectations here?

For this crowdfunding, my main ask is for support, both financially and in the form of encouragement. I want people to see the value in what I do, appreciate the art, the vibe, and the energy of the art. Whether it’s five, ten, or a hundred euros or dollars, every contribution counts and brings me closer to where I want to go. It’s about rallying a community of people who believe in what I’m creating. Go Neon Go!

I see myself as that runner in a marathon, and right now, I need some help getting across this SO very important milestone marker. I’m asking for donations, support, and for people to share their wisdom—better practices, more opportunities, and a push to keep going. It’s not just about money; it’s about people saying, “Hey, we believe in you, Neon. We want to see more of your art, more of that Baby Buddha vibe that’s about returning to a simpler, pure joy—before anything else.”

The Baby Buddha represents a time when we didn’t need anything except our friends, our adventures, and the simplicity of life. That’s the vibe I want to bring back with my work: an open-minded, carefree feeling that speaks to the youthful spark of YOU and to EVERYONE who needs a little reminder of that pure, joyful, and connected to LIFE energy.

So my goal with this crowdfunding is to help me find better housing, to invest in the future of Neon Sandwich, to get more opportunities like vending events/festivals, and to create more merchandise that people can connect with. It’s about building the foundation for something greater, and I’m excited for people to see the value in supporting it and joining Team Sandwich.

And if you could go big? What’s your big little dream?

My big dream is to have an art production live/work property where I can create freely. I envision a place where my dog can run through the dirt, and I can focus on my artistic endeavors, particularly painting. The goal is to have a space that allows me to connect with nature, where I can continue my journey under the teachings of my Chinese master, grounded in Taoism.

Alongside this, I dream of taking my art on the road, going on a European rock-and-roll-style tour with a van, spreading my creative vision across the continent. I’d love to travel through different cities, bringing my art to new audiences, and letting each stop become an opportunity to connect, create, and share my message of “Go, Neon, Go!” It’s not just about building my brand—it’s about building meaningful relationships, sharing moments, and offering something valuable to the people I meet along the way.

The ultimate dream is to balance my personal, peaceful life with my artistic journey, letting the two coexist and support each other, while spreading my message of connection, creativity, and hope for a better future.

You’ve mentioned your dog, how is he a part of this and how does this whole situation affects him?

Iggy Pup has been with me through some tough times over the last 10 years, and he’s an essential part of this journey. My goal is to get a van with a good engine and a bed, so we can go on a tour across Europe. I want to visit cities like Bologna, Rotterdam, Leipzig, Berlin, and London, and share the journey with my community. Iggy deserves better food, so I plan to feed him high-quality lamb, beef, and bones to help with his allergies. Along the way, I’ll share updates, photos, and victories with Ben back in Barcelona. This tour will help me explore new opportunities for my art and business while making sure Iggy and I are both taken care of.

Awesome. And now - what are your further plans?

I’m really excited about getting into these markets and festival spaces and being able to showcase the work. That’s going to take money, so that’s the ask—to support the work and help us become a better, cleaner, more professional Team Sandwich. Knowing that you love the work and saying, “Yeah, we support that—go Neon, go!” Now, we’re in this new chapter of Neon Sandwich with some new products. We have prints, stickers, tote bags, and t-shirts, and we’re just starting here in Barcelona. We’re going online and planning to open a shop as well.

At some point, the Baby Buddha is something I’d like to serve as a merchandising model as a tithing charity percentage to causes such as male trauma issues, which we believe is the root cause of most world issues such as climate change, clean water access and much more. We’ll use colorways, like blue for water and yellow for earth. There are people out there who love the Baby Blue Buddha, or the yellow one, or even the chromatic metallic one. If it starts running itself, I’d love to do a retreat—maybe a five to ten-year one, to be a painter on my property to finish out my Taoist immersion journey I began in 1996. But for now, I think the marathon is for the next three to five years to solidify the cycles of merchandise and ensure Ben has his cycles of production activity as well.

As for new designs, I will expand the Lotus series, and I’m also considering designs inspired by figures like David Hasselhoff and Voldemort. Those would be a bit more playful and not strictly part of the Lotus series, more like non-canon creations—kind of like Star Wars. The idea behind designs like the Hitler piece was to explore the extremes of peace and aggression, the balance of sitting and ego. It’s a conceptual way of approaching art as messaging to the people.