Six Years Old and Certain

At six I decided I was an artist. There was no plan attached to it, only the certainty that making things was the most interesting thing a person could do with their hands.

Adults are careful with children's certainty. They soften it, ask about backup plans. Mine survived anyway, mostly because making things kept feeling better than not making them.

I still work from that place. Before technique, before a market, before a title on a wall — the plain pleasure of putting one thing on top of another until it means something.