Imagine the clouds dripping.Dig a hole in your garden to put them in.

"What's your idea of happiness?

An open rowboat, an open channel, a long river trip, an open waterfront, a good friend, a song... and nowhere to be.



What's offensive to you?

This is sort of based on my recent travels through the states, but I was surprised to find that America has become a land of petty con-artists. What's happening on Wall Street has filtered down and takes place in the smallest exchange in every possible venue. We are approaching an unsustainable level of corruption, really that we can call it a corrupt culture. We are lying to ourselves all the time about the big stuff – about the fate of American empire, about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, about torture and drones, about climate change, for example – and lying to each other all of the time about the smaller stuff as well. You see the same fraudulent practices in every quarter: bait-and-switch, the architecture of choice (in which there is no choice), manufactured consent. It's probably bred out of desperation and an inability to get a foothold, but this greed and this lack of respect or caring for each other is what's really offensive to me – denying that we are a society, and that societies are built on an inherent sense of responsibility to each other, toward the wellbeing of everyone – instead it seems like every good intention is defrauded, defiled, and directed toward individualized gain which creates a net loss for society. That's offensive to me.



What about you're religious views?

Wow, it's funny because as I was coming over here I started thinking about how art for me creates meaning that you can't always find in other aspects of your life. I sort of asked myself, 'Does that mean you have a religious kind of relationship or attachment to it?' I don't quite think so. It doesn't seem religious to me. It seems much more secular. But it might be our inability to accept sublime experiences within a secular framework. So, I used to go to P.S. 1 every week and started thinking about it as a church.

In the week it's quiet, it's a place to meditate on art (or just sit and think). But it's not a church. Though you could argue that museums today do fill many of the roles of churches – a connection to the timeless, the infinite demarcated in discreet material constructions... In general, I'm what they call an "airplane atheist" or an "airplane agnostic." I don't always pray on planes but I do start to look for patterns and signs. When the East River is sweeping me out into New York harbor, I find a place for thinking about some greater power that might intervene, or I try to stare fate in the face to see what might be coming. Otherwise I don't think about it."