HR

Human Resources Lead |

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

I just put some First-Edition Mon plushies from the reserve up for grabs for the first time since 2024! They have been available only in person at galleries/museums up to this point. (post claim)

Only 500 were produced. Most are already in the care of collectors. 🧿

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

$29 B-grade hoodies

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

Hollow with a Pearl Earring. 🎃

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

Chow Chow Cháo!!! Pre-Order is live!

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

At first glance, it’s about surveillance. Digital erosion. The slow loss of self in a world where attention is currency and data is law. But beneath that, it’s about something far more personal: disappearance. The kind that doesn’t happen all at once—but gradually, quietly, painfully. The kind I know all too well.

I was deported from the U.S. when I was 17.

The day it happened, I was in Nashville, visiting my great aunt. She had taken me to a museum after hearing I hadn't left our small town for over 6 years. We had just finished lunch—nothing heavy, just a quiet afternoon. Then the phone started buzzing. First a text. Then a call. Then another. My friends were hysterical, crying. I just sat there, still. Like the moment didn’t know what to do with itself yet. I posted something vague on Facebook. I don’t even remember what I wrote. Who really does at that age? I think I was still hoping it wouldn’t be real.

We had overstayed our regular "non-visa" stay by over seven years. My mom didn’t speak English. And the paperwork— the legal stuff— was mostly handled by my step-grandfather, a 70-year-old high school dropout war vet trying his best with a shady lawyer who promised more than she delivered. We thought we did it right. We didn’t.

I was about to enter my senior year of high school. I’d finally built a tribe for myself after years of being the only Asian kid in a very white, very conservative school. People finally saw me for more than what I looked like. I was excited—prom, finals, dumb jokes in the band instrument room. And it was all gone.

Just like that.

I packed a suitcase. Threw in my clothes, my GameBoy, a laptop I got for Christmas. That was it. That was the whole exit.

It didn’t make me rethink what “home” was. It just confirmed I didn’t have one.

I was born in Norway. I’m Vietnamese. I was raised in the American South. And I didn’t feel fully claimed by any of those places. I hadn’t held onto my Norwegian roots. I had forgotten most of the language. My mom and I only spoke Vietnamese and broken English at home. And suddenly I was back in a country I barely remembered, expected to rebuild from a past I had outgrown.

At first, my friends back in the U.S. tried to keep in touch. They called, they messaged. For a while, it felt okay. But then it didn’t. I started slipping away from their lives. I blamed myself— I was grieving, spiraling, depressed. But I also knew their world kept spinning. Final years of school, college apps, their futures forming. And mine had hit pause.

There was a moment— cold, fluorescent, heavy. I was standing in a government building. A woman behind plexiglass told us we were banned from the U.S. for 10 years. And even after that, maybe we could apply to come back. No promises.

I remember thinking: this is it.

Half my life had just been filed away. I was labeled. Stamped. Gone. I felt dread. I felt grief. But I also felt something that surprised me: relief. A strange, brutal relief. That maybe now I could stop pretending I belonged somewhere I clearly didn’t. Maybe now I could root somewhere else. Or maybe I’d just float. Between worlds. Between languages. Between memories.

Some time had passed, we appealed the ban. We won. The lawyer disbared. I came back.

But I didn’t return to the same place I remembered. And I wasn’t the same person.

I had started calling it No Home Center. That space you live in when you don’t have a “before” to go back to, or an “after” you trust. Just a blurry, drifting now. Not citizen. Not tourist. Just surviving. Just observing. Just making marks to say: I was here.

That’s where Trace came from.

It’s for those of us who disappear from memory, from systems, from archives. The ones who don't get headlines when we're deported. Who don’t leave behind documents—only feelings, unfinished friendships, vanished futures.

Trace is a refusal to vanish quietly.

A mark.
A map.
A proof of presence.
For the ones who were told they didn’t belong, not because of who they were—but because of where they were. For the ones who had to grieve a life while still breathing.
You are not alone.
You are not data.
You are not erased.

You’re still here.
And I see you.

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

I'm honored to share that Trace is now live at auction at Sotheby’s. 🧿

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

Last chance

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

First Edition Mon Plushie sign-ups are now LIVE! 🧿

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

Unreal.

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

All 400 Monster Soup cans SOLD OUT! Thank you all so much!! 🧿🥂🥫

I’m at a loss for words. After having to delay the drop due to yesterday's ledger exploit concerns, I was even more nervous than normal going into today’s drop. I knew creating something with so many moving parts would be difficult, and I wasn’t sure how it would be received in this market. I’m extremely grateful to be able to bring you my first-ever physical print collection in a way that holds true to Monster’s web3 roots. I’m absolutely blown away by the love you’ve shown for the collection!

I’m immensely proud of what @iconicmoments and I have been able to achieve with Monster Soup— From the storage of these prints for the foreseeable future at a museum grade level, figuring out the logistics of a long-term redemption model, developing a novel and unique minting experience never seen before, obsessing over the dynamics of the collection and the tokenomic centric deflationary model, all the way to producing the highest quality prints I have ever seen in my 10 years of being a professional artist. All of this was a huge gamble to tackle during the depths of this bear market, and I’ll sound like a broken record here, but I’m eternally grateful that you made it possible.

Des Monsters new and old from the absolute very first mints to our very latest (thank you again Garett!) acquired sets with no hesitation. Community members who have been around since the beginning and new ones who joined this week all rallied behind getting their first physical from me. I’m beyond humbled and honored my friends. I make art because it’s my form of therapy, but your excitement over my works is what drives me to go further.

2023 has had major highs and major lows, all of which I’m learning to navigate along the way. I’m so thankful to you all for closing this year on such a high note, but I know there is work to be had. A lot of very ambitious things and restructuring is happening in ‘24. It will be wise to proceed with caution— as another set will burn.

Thank you all so much again for your continued support, and please share with me your Monster Soup!! Stay tuned as rares and ultra rares will be revealed... I decided to add some more for you. 👀🧿🥫

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

🥫🥫🥫

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

I’m proud to announce that part of the Monster Soup can sales will go directly to @WCKitchen. 💙

I want to share a bit of a personal story about an apple, and why WCK’s work is so important to me. One of the stories that stands out in my childhood is one that my uncle shared with me. During the Vietnam war, my family fled the country on a small fishing boat to escape persecution. They packed as much food and resources as they could on that boat, but had no idea what was ahead of them. Adrift at sea for endless days, with their provisions dwindling, their situation seemed dire. “The sun was relentless” was something he kept saying during his story. Then, one fateful day, they spotted a large ship on the horizon. Mustering their last reserves of strength, they waved frantically for help. To their relief, it was a humanitarian vessel rescuing Vietnamese refugees. Once on that boat, the first thing they gave them was an apple and water. My uncle described it as the best apple he’d ever tasted. As a child, I imagined it was just a remarkably tasty apple, but I later understood it represented much more. That apple was a symbol of hope and survival, a reassurance that they would live to see another day.

Food is one of the few things in life that bring us comfort during times of uncertainty. And as the World Central Kitchen says “a nourishing meal in a time of crisis is so much more than a plate of food—it's hope, it's dignity, and it's a sign that someone cares.”

I’m immensely proud that we will be able to support such an amazing cause through my art. Thank you all so much for supporting my work! 🥂

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

Gm, Monster Month is officially over. What an absolute blast this year has been! 🧿🎃🥂

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

The Skulker awaits your tribute; place your offerings now and hope to be chosen. 💀

[HR @deebee_al]

@0xJohanNFT @brandonjaxn @DesLucrece @SamSpratt @AnotherNFTacct I don’t wanna be manager anymore, someone fire me

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

I'm excited to announce that I'm returning to Sotheby's as part of their Natively Digitial curation. 🧿

"#52 The Specter" is now available!

Natively Digital: Glitch-ism
March 24-31st (ends 2pm eastern)
Place your bid here: https://t.co/NLgkWDkmMy

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

Celebrating 9 years with the SO today. We have so much to celebrate and be thankful for this year. 💙🥂

[HR @deebee_al]

@DesLucrece ❤️😗❤️

[Monty @montyreport]

1/3 My interview with @DesLucrece is LIVE.

Des opens up about:
- The loss of his father
- Lessons he’s learned from his mom
- His plans for 2023
- Why he chooses to remain anonymous
- The last time he cried
- His business and core team
- and so much more

Link in part 3...👀👇

[Lucréce @DesLucrece]

Defy Mosaics minting tomorrow at 5PM Est. on @AsyncArt and will be indexed on @SuperRare.
🟦🟨🟩🟥🟪🟧