I began the day wanting to bring into convergence three activities of being—what I’d seen, what I’d read, and what I’d drawn—and to say about these acts how they made lines in the world that ran alongside other lines, and how all these lines together made environments of the earth, where I could put my body and you could put yours, and these would be lines always entwined because there was little if anything you could say or make without calling forth other lines, and this was how you knew you were where you were and the ground was worth cultivating and that there was life beneath the ground.

–Renee Gladman

Does one make art for certainty? Is art something? It seems, that “art” if anything at all, is a process. Sure there are tangible videos or sculptures or paintings, exhibited at certain times for more or less money — but the reason for making is to conceive, to think, and to feel one’s inner and outer worlds, no? And that’s not an undertaking stable in any real way — so wide and variagated is every moment. Its not a process of surety, it is perhaps a process of learning to love the process of the world.