The only meaningful statistic is number of games won.
The idea of being in the desert is fundamental, but it's totally relative, and it's about that membrane: the way that one defines self versus the environment.
I think there's an interesting line drawn towards extreme environments, and the way I define extreme is through a sense of otherness. Or foreignness.
Poetry makes sense of the parts of human experience that are confusing and not decodable in any other way. It makes accessible the inaccessible.
I was born in a small clapboard house on an island, but I also have certain privileges that I didn't have when I was on the island. So that dichotomy again is actually really crucial.
Sometimes I'm inspired by the material and sometimes there's an idea that speaks to a material.
There are certain conceptual powers in this project, like the relationship of glass to sand, and the idea of putting glass back into the earth, which is where it comes from, which are related to the whole concept of I Am. So there's that one below-surface idea, and then there's these other practical and more pragmatic ideas about how the light functions and the geometry and mathematics behind the reverberation of light from the surface outward.
Thus does the unyielding, inescapable future ineluctably devour the present.
The road through grief is a rocky one. Traveling along it requires courage, patience, wisdom, and hope.
In the woods is perpetual youth.
What I did have, which others perhaps didn't, was a capacity for sticking at it, which really is the point, not the talent at all. You have to stick at it.