I was born this way. In kindergarten I was smitten with paper and paste. In third grade I was in heaven the day we learned how to cross-stitch on burlap. (I can still smell the burlap.) I sew while watching TV. Illustrate overhead conversations. Knit at stop lights. Save everything for its collage or assemblage potential. I was born this way.
Various levels of emotion ranging from the willingness to die for someone to weeping with connection.
Perfect portable space: my Moleskine journal. Perfect stationary place: The gazebo in my yard, with curtains I sewed from shade cloth, succulents and trees all around, and a beautiful view
My Joe Purdy station on Pandora, the Gypsy Kings, or Endless Melancholy.
The expression of imagination.
Everything. All around me I see comedy, oddity and irony.