The digital age is for me in many ways about temporal wounding. It's really messed up our ontological clocks.

I still have faith in people. But that is getting increasingly harder to maintain. I just don't see many people today choosing love. I see people passing it up a lot. Foreclosing on it, deferring it, sabotaging, letting go.

True lovers are as rare as true rebels.

Love is an active construction, and choice, not just an encounter that happens by chance.

At any moment I could give up, but I haven't because love for me is an indispensable structure for being.

The digital artwork is characterized not by the technology which delivers it, but by the "passage" itself.

The way something looks or sounds is also what it means. Words as visual and aural phenomena, which mainly poets, not critics and prose writers, tend to be obsessed with. I think maybe I'm more of a curator than I am a writer in the strict sense because I am interested in how everything on the page, in a space, works together.