Do you know where we get the word universe? It’s from Latin. You combine “uno”, meaning one and  “verse”, meaning “to cause to turn,”. So we’re all turning together. And you see “verse” pop up inside other words all the time. Conversation, combines “con”, which means with, and “verse”. As if in conversation your turning with this other person. Verses, also like verses, like lines of poetry that turn into one another. It’s quite poetic itself. 

Ya know, all that spinning and whirring, like everything is one rotating system. And then yea, I think of processes of definition too. I prefer my path to definition be much like an airplane's descent, slowly circling and narrowing in. But then, what if the plane never lands? What if you build your home (and situate your art practice) in the air? It’s just, I find myself fighting with myself all the time that I haven’t arrived that a point yet. But then at the same time, I’m in this conflict between continuum and evolution. Or maybe, yeah, consistency and evolution.

Spirals, I think, are so important to me. The way you contemplate and go around in around in your head. The way you have to come back to things you thought you knew and see deeper truths. It’s like a holy circle. She’s no longer violent or vicious, she’s set free. Unbound, unspun, unstuck.

The spinning together one is a big one. Conversation? Like that solar system that’s made up of just stars that shoot through space together linked to one another. I think the best art that I've ever made is talking to my friends. And it’s more important in it’s intangibility. Art then, is really just the punctuation in this conversation. It landmarks the discovery of ideas but is never final. The things you make and look at are a tiny sliver of an invisible structure. Like you can only see a curtain facade of a cathedral made of air. It's the air between us. We really really talk for hours.