I’ve never claimed to understand the meaning of it all, but the tactile qualities of the “material world” draw me in like an insect to a light in the dark. I often lose myself pondering “how?”, “why?”, and “what do I do about it?”. Creating creatures and things of my own helps me feel grounded, for a time... I think I am attempting to encapsulate my dreams and demons somehow. They are my anchor amidst the world’s chaos. I need to sculpt…
“If such lovely creatures were miserable, it was less strange that I, an imperfect and solitary being, should be wretched.”
