I think some of this just feels right. You're in the shower and you come up with a sentence and it's beautiful. You don't know how it's going to fit in the film, but you put it in because it feels right. This is a very long way of saying, so much of it is me feeling like I'm catching ideas rather than coming up with ideas. It's very fluid like that.

What's interesting is when you talk about that - "living forever" or as long as you possibly can - what you really want is a continuance of your memories and your experiences. If I said you could live another 200 years, but we'd have to reboot you, that's not attractive. Nobody wants that as much as a continuance of your experience.

Both the writing and the visuals in that sense are very exploratory. It goes back to my rule for myself [in] making it.

Most people's personalities and roles are locked by the time they're nine or 10. I think there's something to that.

I've got the luxury of being able to work largely alone, so I don't need to communicate difficult creative classeas to other people and can leave the whole thing in my head or on scattered notes and sketches that only I need to understand. So I can very radically and quickly change things as I go without tripping anybody else up. And the camera allows me to experiment and try new things on the fly.

To be animating at the same time, it's the ultimate freedom in filmmaking because you can literally put anything on the screen that you can imagine.

To me, that's where memories are very interesting because what happens when we start losing memories? What happens when you can't take your memories with you? Who are we without our memories, without our past?