I was in that generation where I was torn if you should put it on the web because you're giving it away for free but you also want people to see your work.

I think I'm aware of entering my late 30s versus being in my late 20s, when the web was coming out as this new thing. It reminds me of how people used to tell me about my great-grandmother and how they used to gather around a radio listening to soap operas.

When I stepped back from the gallery I was in a phase where I thought I wasn't going to be making work for a gallery context for a while. People were like, "You should never leave a gallery if you didn't have somewhere else to go," but I wasn't trying to disrespect the gallerists in that way.

I guess I cringe, because sometimes I don't even watch my live performances back. When I edit, it's this feeling of seeing my mistakes. It's always a mixture of loving characters, but being the artist that created it and not trying to go too deep in criticizing myself.

You can talk yourself out of doing something if you start to think about, "How would this person see it, or that person see it?" So sometimes it's allowing myself to be in it and not talking myself out of it.

I was in that generation where I was torn if you should put it on the web because you're giving it away for free but you also want people to see your work.

I realized that was what was happening in my work already. I think that's where, as artists, we begin to master our craft: when we're able to step back and understand things.