If I had to describe my work in one word, that word would be time.

If I'm going to understand the land, I have to understand the wind, the snow, the rain, the leaves, the ice, and changes in temperature. It just reflects a reality for me.

When I’m working with materials it’s not just the leaf or the stone, it’s the processes that are behind them that are important. That’s what I’m trying to understand, not a single isolated object but nature as a whole.

The things that I make are that which a person will make. They're not meant to mimic nature. They are nothing but the result of a hand of a person.

I've laid down in dried up streambeds, leaving a shadow. And then, five minutes later, it's flash flooded, and where I once laid is now running water, which would've washed me away, you know? There's that power and danger often in places that look so calm and pastoral to begin with.

Winter makes a bridge between one year and another and, in this case, one century and the next.

We leave our presence in the pavement. We're walking over it, sitting on steps.