shall we dance?

On a daily basis, the practice of art is continuous because all experiences, including dreams, potentially fuel the work. Each action has its effect. This began for me without fanfare: I was in diapers and someone put a drawing implement in my chubby fist. If it had been a spatula, things might have turned out differently. ("If only I had known!" my mother will lament.)

Naturally, it will end when I become disabled or die, but I’m counting on seeing and doing and discovering a few more things between now and then. For instance, I still haven’t learned how to dance. [You can’t see my feet, but I was faking it in the post below.]

[excerpt from my responses to Douglas Witmer‘s questions, as part of JT Kirkland’s project Artists Interview Artists.]