What really made me a performance artist was that I was able to step back and assess. I've always had [that ability], but it was coming to an understanding.

I've learned that I need to learn how to direct without making the person distracted and keeping them comfortable, and pay more attention to lighting.

If I have a piece that's solely based on the web and it's going to also exist in a gallery, it needs to exist in a gallery where it doesn't feel redundant.

Sometimes you divorce a part of yourself to save yourself emotionally.

I feel like my perception has changed a little because when I was posting stuff online it was an extension of my studio and then it started getting some of the attention. Now it's like, "Oh, this is actually a place where you can make money," but I'm not interested in competing in that space. It seems like too much to deal with.

People say if you keep making work and keep putting it out, better things will come. I think artists should never forget that. I think that's what you have to be committed to if you're an artist, that's where the good feelings come from. It's so easy to get caught up in other stuff, like the business part of it. If you just have to be aware, just keep putting it out there.

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.