Words are changing. I find that old expressions are outdated, so when I write something, I try to find a new expression that hasn't been born yet. It's difficult.

Public art existed all along, but ecological art just naturally grew out of my thinking and writings in that area for years. I didn't get involved in it; I started what then became a movement.

I always was alone. And I'm alone today. It's fine. I have lots of friends, but not in terms of working together.

Philosophy gets its ugly head into everything, but I don't think we live philosophy anymore. It's done.

Pattern-finding is the purpose of the mind and the construct of the universe. There are an infinite number of patterns, some of which are known; those still unknown hold the key to unresolved enigmas and paradoxes.

Every one of my works, when I'm looking back, becomes some kind of solution, or something to concentrate on. Something to pay attention to and maybe change direction.

Thinking has an understructure and underpinnings.