If you entered the room I’m working in right now, you would go – what happened? It’s – well – not tidy. I’m what you might call “organizationally challenged”.

But NOT in my art. I mean the art itself. This piece especially.

Oh man, I spent the whole day assembling the most complicated section. I lay the pieces as they would hang and, oh my god, the edges were NOT as they should be. They need to be JUST SO.

Take that fabric away. Dye some more. Get it right: that opening and that edge and that edge – I had to see it that way to know that it’s not what I want.

In the end, there will be discrepancy. That’s the nature of the silk. I love silk for that reason. And I will love that discrepancy.

I’m SO particular in my art.

You’d think it’d spill over into my daily life. But no: it seems to be only in the service of what matters more to me. Or, is my art just this wild aberration?