When you're in [ Bahamas], it feels like a bunch of islands, with keys and things like that. It's an existential archipelago. It's funny, you try to escape who you are and where you're from, but it's always part of your social DNA.

I think being an artist and taking on those challenges is just how it is for me. Because I was always a foreigner, I was always the outsider.

The idea of being in the desert is fundamental, but it's totally relative, and it's about that membrane: the way that one defines self versus the environment.

I don't really feel pressure. I'm so distracted by what we're doing; I'm doing this four-acre project, it's just absorbing all my attention. Before you know it we're onto the next project, and so on and so forth.

Sometimes I'm inspired by the material and sometimes there's an idea that speaks to a material.

I think when you're younger and making things, it's something that you have to fight through, to finish things. I feel like I'm past that stage, and I get the appreciation for being in that moment, and soaking it in.

I think there's an interesting line drawn towards extreme environments, and the way I define extreme is through a sense of otherness. Or foreignness.