Someone Else's Body Is A Place For

The Epiphany For Me Was That I Wasnt A Writer, And I Had To Do Something With These Texts. I Put Them In The Streets As Posters.

A Sense Of Duty Imprisons You.

I Wasn't Sure I Was An Artist, So I Thought Maybe I Just Was Throwing Ideas Out For People To Consider.

It's Necessary To Start Most Work Alone. But I'm Tickled To Death When I Can Pull Somebody In Or Join Someone, Whether It's Borrowing Poetry Or Traveling With An Associate.

On The Worst Days, I Don't Feel Like An Artist.