No doubt. I’ve written at times about the spooky element in writing. You go in each morning, and there’s a blank page. Maybe it takes five minutes, maybe it takes an hour. Sooner or later you start writing, and then the words begin to flow. Where does that come from? You can’t pinpoint it. You always wonder, “Will it all stop tomorrow?” In that sense it’s spooky. In other words, you’re relying on a phenomenon that’s not necessarily dependable. That’s a particular kind of fear but there are other fears in writing of an altogether different sort.

To be honest, it’s always different. I never know what I’m going to do when I get a new project! Sometimes I’m going to get a bunch of trace paper, I’ll make a silhouette and then just go through variations until I hit something nice. Maybe we put those sketches up on the wall. Or maybe I’m going to print the full-scale silhouette of this thing, or I’ll do it in 3D modeling… And on and on. The thing that’s consistent when I am in creation mode is that I have to be pretty particular about my schedule. I have to stay spiritually in tune. Exercise is really important for me because truth be told, I can have a lot of nervous energy that comes out at the beginning of any project, like, I have no idea how I’m gonna do this one! I don’t know what the process is going to be for this one, I don’t know how long it’s gonna take.

I started with the earliest tools: mashers and cutters, knives and knots. I would cast them in paint, and embed them right in the surface. I was using plastilene clay to make the molds. One day my friend Art Schade said, “Why don’t you just make the paintings on the clay ?” It was one of those moments where you hit yourself in the forehead. So I built a big clay table, eight by ten feet. And I could engrave the surface in all kinds of ways.

Choosing parts is based on a series of instincts and hunches