The groove is so mysterious. We're born with it and we lose it and the world seems to split apart before our eyes into stupid and cool. When we get it back, the world unifies around us, and both stupid and cool fall away. I am grateful to those who are keepers of the groove. The babies and the grandmas who hang on to it and help us remember when we forget that any kind of dancing is better than no dancing at all.

What is an idea made of? Of future, past and also meanwhile.

It is true that I am a person with black pockets of evil and hatred in my heart. There are underground places inside of me

Love will make a way out of no way

Race and class are the easiest divisions. It's very stupid

I remember my comic strips being called "new wave." It bugged me.

The strips are nearly effortless unless I am really emotionally upset, a wreck.