As a working studio artist, I’ve had the pleasure of only making art to make a living. Good thing, as that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, ever tried to do, ever qualified to do. That and writing, and making books. It’s really the same process, collecting a lot of a material, whether cement or clay or words, and stripping away until only the most essential remains. As time has passed, I’m more involved in writing: the connection between visual and narrative to tell stories. California history and watersheds are particularly fascinating, and now with climate change, more critical than ever. The word “diversity” might be annoying to some, but to me, only the healthiest systems are diverse.
I’m more concerned with a level of challenge and learning than I am in developing a “collectible” style. I thrive on a little risk: the feeling of starting a project not knowing exactly what to do or how to get it done, whether in words or images. It’s like the fun part of traveling — you never know what’s around the next bend. The role of art in architecture has dominated my career: how people relate to space, and how they move through space, inside and out. The history of location is critical to me, taking every opportunity to learn about a place and what it means.