There are a lot of people who don't contribute anything to consumption and production.
The site I landed on feels much more isolated than it really is; it's almost magical. Within its limited radius, there was a whole range of the local ecology.
I think of moving as a kind of saving grace.
Although idea and form are ultimately paramount in my work, so too are chance, accident, and rawness.
At a certain point, I just put the building and the art impulse together. I decided that building was a legitimate way to make sculpture.
There remains this belief that the work itself can have an identity that can speak, whether it's through beauty, or through ugliness, or whatever quality you put into the work. The work doesn't have to be a transparent vehicle for you to say things about life today.
The most precise work is generally done by hand, with hand tools. Some people rely on machines for their precision, and my way of working is backwards. I rely on the machines for doing the gross stock removal and then, when it comes to the final refinements and fitting of joints and things, making things work together, I rely more on sharp-edged tools that I push by hand.
How do I get past my fears? Make a life for myself? Risk loving someone? When death is all that waits for you, what's the point in trying to have a life?
I am a conservative Republican, but I believe in democracy and the separation of church and state. The conservative movement is founded on the simple tenet that people have the right to live life as they please as long as they don't hurt anyone else in the process.
Even good hearts know how to turn bad touch and genocide into clichés just to make room for more comfort.
She (Daisy) dug her nails into her palms and told herself she had no choice. "I, Theodosia. . . " She gulped for air. ". . . take thee Alexander. . . " She gulped again. ". . . to be my awful wedded husband.