I don't ever work in a way where something is an illustration of an event, but when something is occurring at the same time I see it as very informed by that.

When you're not a mom, you can get up in the middle of the night, paint, sleep all morning... you can't do that when you have two children!

The earlier, more analytic impulse was to use very rational but kind of absurd techniques or tendencies—mapping, charting, and architecture—to try and make sense of who I was in my time and space and political environment. But there’s only so much truth to a theoretical understanding of something.

I'm not trying to spell out a story. I still think you feel the painting, and the reason you read the mark is because you also feel the mark.

That's what I'm interested in: the space in between, the moment of imagining what is possible and yet not knowing what that is.

Race always comes up in the conversation of Detroit.

The erasure itself became the action. It seemed to suggest a moment in terms of how sad or pessimistic you can feel in a political environment or a historical situation. But it felt like a really hopeful gesture in the painting.