There are days that compel me to walk outside of my studio, turn my face to the sky, and scream with delight “I love my life! Thank you Universe!” at the top of my lungs. But some days, when I’m in a crunch, I walk outside and hold my hands up to the sky, squint at the sun, and with a middle finger sticking out of each fist I gesture:— Yeah,... See more

My being an artist is not a question of being able to make artwork. It is a question of my willingness to make something imperfect, or ugly, and how much resilience I have to face that reality repeatedly.