A lot of my work is like picking potatoes; you have to get into the rhythm of it. It is different than patience. It is not thinking. It is working with the rhythm.

The first snowball I froze was put in my mother's deep freeze when I was in my early 20s.

I have six acres in front of my own house, which I very rarely work on. Most of the work occurs on farmers' fields around me. And I like the discipline of working on other people's land.

Ephemeral work made outside, for and about a day, lies at the core of my art and its making must be kept private.

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.

Ideas must be put to the test. That's why we make things; otherwise they would be no more than ideas. There is often a huge difference between an idea and its realization. I've had what I thought were great ideas that just didn't work.

When I do the permanent projects or the big projects, when a work is finished, that's the beginning of its life.