I Moved His Hair Out Of His

For A Split Second I Felt As Though She Was Nobody Special In The Larger Scheme Of My Life. She Was Just Some Girl Who Had Tied Me To Her Leg To Help Her Sink When She Jumped Off The Bridge. Then I Blinked And Was In Love With Her Again.

The Idea That You Might End Up In A Job That Doesn't Allow You To Be Who You Are, Over The Course Of A Lifetime, Is Still One Of The Most Chilling Nightmares To Me. It's A Good Metaphor For Fears I Have About Losing My Soul In Some Accidental, Mundane Way. So, To Me, These Jobs That My Characters Have Are Very Loaded. They Immediately Suggest A Complex Character To Me, A Woman Who Is, Say, A Secretary, But Also A Vigilante On Behalf Of Her Own Soul.

Things Usually Make Sense In Time, And Even Bad Decisions Have Their Own Kind Of Correctness.

Don't Wait To Be Sure. Move, Move, Move.

That's The Artist's Job, Really: Continually Setting Yourself Free, And Giving Yourself New Options And New Ways Of Thinking About Things.