To understand something changing form as a destructive act is a very modern, Western gut reaction to things, and I get it. But what I'm suggesting is nothing radical, this notion of things constantly changing, and that the change is not inherently destructive.

To this day, I've never had an assistant. I really insist on doing everything myself because I value the role of the artist's hand so much in the process. But that means I have to learn it personally in order to do it.

I feel that one of the roles of the artist, in the way I define it, is that I need to be not just someone observing these tiny pockets of people on the planet who have devoted their lives to preserving whatever it is they're passionate about. I want to be them. I am one of them. I just have a different outlet and final outcome as an artist than many of them would. For them, the process can just end in holding on to it, just knowing they've got it tucked away in their private collection. I value that so much, but I feel the conversation dies in a way there.

As many glaciers are melting and icy tundras are decaying, there's an unprecedented amount of woolly mammoth material that's becoming dislodged from the ice. Not just mammoth, but all kinds of fossils from the past. What occurred to me was, had anyone tried to pinpoint the first case of human-induced extinction? What was the first time we as species pushed another one to oblivion? I would argue that's probably going to be one of the defining moral problems of the century, human-induced extinction. And I really wanted to know, when did we first cross that barrier?

To understand something changing form as a destructive act is a very modern, Western gut reaction to things, and I get it. But what I'm suggesting is nothing radical, this notion of things constantly changing, and that the change is not inherently destructive.

I want the strangeness and weirdness and incomprehensibility of life that art can reflect so well, but I want it to feel like a mystery that is inviting us in. Sagan's great art lesson for me was generosity of wonder and making curiosity contagious.

The tragedy is that, as modern viewers, we've completely lost touch with what it physically takes to wage a war.