I like working in series, so instead of just doing one separate body of work, what if I come up with a different rhythm, instead of every week, what if I make it every year? And so I'm still setting up a series, a repetition, but it's a completely different work flow.

If I was feeling angry, I had to investigate not just who or what I was angry at, but why. And then I had to do the hard part and ask myself: Are you justified in where your anger is being directed? So, while I allowed my emotions to be valid, I knew that if I were to use them constructively, in the service of art, then I had to look at them dispassionately. Some might call this therapy, and I suppose it was. But I also had a goal that was larger than just healing myself, which was connecting to an audience.

On to the Next Dream became about much more than me facing a challenging situation; it became about how all of us feel when we're thrust unexpectedly into change. It's about how we all hold onto personalized visions of our lives, our city, and our culture, and what we do when reality forces us to confront the impermanence of those visions.

On to the Next Dream is so outlandish. I call it absurdist fiction, because the story is utter hyperbole. The story builds to such an exaggerated and ridiculous pitch that there's no way it can be true - and yet, because it's based on the current cultural climate, it feels as if it is.

In hard times, beauty can seem frivolous - but take it away, and all you're left with is hard times.

We've become to living with absurdity, and that to make people to see how much so, I had to ratchet up the insanity.

I like making series, for a couple reasons. One, the repetition of routine is very healthy because I can get a little crazy; I want to be making things all the time. And if I publish something every week, I don't have to put every idea I have into one piece. It's more like, here's one idea: execute it, see it through, think about it, do it the best you can. And then there are going to be ten more ideas that come while you're making that, because creativity works that way.