In 2000, Houben left for New York with a hundred and fifty dollars in his pocket, a few paintings rolled up, and phone numbers of acquaintances from his 1996 show in the Big Apple. No cell phone. He used the street ones and, preparing 25-cent coins for them, began looking at the coins and then painting them. And so the images of bills, coins, checks and bonds became the basis of his painting.

Andy Warhol is an inspiration for your “120 faces” exhibition. What do you find appealing about his work? Which way do you believe he has inspired you?

To be honest, this is the individual from whom I’ve learned the most. We were taught at the Academy of Arts in Sofia, Bulgaria, that art is self-sufficient. Andy Warhol’s Diaries, a hefty book that discusses his ideas on how to truly transmit your talent as an artist to the world, is one of my favorites. This is critical. It’s even more difficult to find someone to teach you that. The goal is to make your concepts more accessible.  The goal is to make your ideas more approachable. Which is a combination of skill and hard work. Andy Warhol’s last Factory, by the way, is around 10 blocks from my studio, which is fairly close given the size of New York. It’s all a coincidence! I didn’t go looking for it.

Which contemporary artist is your favorite? Do you buy art?

Damien Hirst. I admire his ability to keep the discourse focused on himself, as Andy Warhol used to do. I enjoy Damien Hirst’s art and find him to be an understanding and approachable artist.

If I had to answer your question by mentioning a Bulgarian artist, it would be someone from XXL (an artist circle in which Houben Cherkelov was a member in the 1990s) – my buddies. Svilen Stefanov, I admire Ivan Kyuranov.

I also don’t buy artwork. Normally, I receive them as a gift.

Have you developed any painting rituals? How do you refuel?

I enjoy listening to the talks at hipster coffee shops in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, in the morning. It’s full of slackers. They’re talking about some really bad movies from the 1980s, as well as programs, games, and quizzes from the 1960s and 1970s. Since the morning, there have been drunks and smokes. And this is pop culture, but it is old and out of date. And they are folks with whom I have nothing in common in real life, but I am curious to hear what they have to say. I unwind by visiting galleries and museums. I enjoy looking at art from different eras and reading fiction. For example, as misanthropic as Michel Welbeck is, I admire him. Everyone has cynicism, but when I read Welbeck, I think to myself, “Well, he’s right, I completely understand that,” but as an artist, I want to do the opposite.

Are there any celebrities among your clients?

In contrast to my Bulgarian colleagues, I avoid using names. Our work relies heavily on discretion. It’s a question of professional ethics. I cultivate relations with my clients and have had loyal clients for over 15 years.

What about your social circles?

There are now more collectors in them. Artists, too, but not as many as in Bulgaria because I don’t have as much spare time. In order to maintain a sense of rhythm, in addition to the paintings I create and meets with clients, I must participate in two exhibitions in the United States each year. They will appear at New York and Boston galleries this year. When I’m in New York, I work hard. On weekends, we travel to friends’ villas. Or we plan longer-term holidays, such as in the Caribbean.

How does your house look – is there a studio there?

No, I don’t work from home. Doing so sends me into a psychosis. You cannot separate yourself from work. You’ll always scratch something. And art suffers as a result, as do you. It may work for some, but I believe these two areas should be kept apart. By the way, I live on the first floor of an apartment building with a yard, where unfortunately we go out eat out to dinner once or twice a year. I stay late at work because clients come to the studio after work, which is after 7 p.m. During the day, I paint. And we don’t cook at home when I get home. We eat outside every night.

What makes your wife your inspiration?

She is not my inspiration. Money is my inspiration. Hahahaha! I’m kidding. She can be an unbiased arbitrator of some of my artistic endeavors. My wife and I met because she lived near my former studio. She has a degree in English literature, but it is tough to make a living with such a degree. So she went to law school and now she works as a business lawyer. Not that it makes her happy, but things are the way they are.

Speaking of money, how much do you currently have on you?

$10,000 – he reaches in his backpack and retrieves a wad of cash wrapped in white paper from his front pocket.

Why do you have so much money?

(Laughs.) Well, why?! – escapes the question and keeps quiet.

Like to have some for breakfast?

(He laugh.)

What was the first painting you sold in the States?

I don’t remember, and I don’t think the paintings that I brought back with me coming here could actually be legitimate paintings from the current perspective, but… anyway they were nice. I had no intention to stay when I came to the States. I rather came to try what would happen. And back then America was still an open market, my paintings, which would have cost $500 in Bulgaria, sold for $3,500 in America. Ha ha ha!

Haven’t you mellowed over time unlike the XXL era when you were outspoken, young, even cocky at times?

That’s right. These were the times. They keep writing about me as a provocateur and arsonist. This irritates many people because they expect people not to change. Graffiti and performance art are still practiced now, but it was a way of expression for me in the 1980s. I’m an arsonist and a provocateur, and I’ve decided to work through the market by painting images on banknotes. In Bulgaria, the old nomenclature still rules everything, despite the fact that they all appear to be exalted on television. They are not in favor of contemporary art. They force individuals to leave the country. Anyone can go to Kvadrat 500 and see how the paintings were before 1989.

And what do you like to remember from the time before you left?

I have a nostalgic feeling for our carefree days when we were 20. We lived carefree, and it seemed that this has always been the case. And I miss it since there is so much work in the United States. Some things are accomplished, but the carefreeness, the pleasure of not caring… is gone. We also began to lose human interaction in favor of internet communication. Both the internet and cell phones are to fault for this.

Was there ever a time when you wished you could go in a different direction or do something else?

Unfortunately, I don’t have any other skills, I don’t even have a driver’s license. Very incovenient. I’ve tried my hand at design, but no one will hire me on the molg term since I’m undisciplined. I am not interested in doing anything else but drawing.

Are you missing something?

A lot of things, but mostly free time so that I can fully enjoy life. Again, as a cliche as it sounds, life in New York is just about working, and it’s stressful. Well, if I have more personal time, I’ll be happier. But that’s the deal I’ve accepted.