With incessant self-work—whether it’s weekly therapy or horoscopes or daily tarot readings or scouring self-help instagram or books—there’s a sense that you’re trying to milk the universe for insight. But the universe is not your cow, over whom you have dominion. The universe is your mother, over whom you have no control but do possess a strong influence. She will feed you when she decides it’s time—or when you cry powerfully—out of love and care for you. But you cannot bring the breast to your mouth yourself, for you are ultimately completely dependent.

The last time we talked, I brought up this quote that I'm really fond of: “do what only you can, don't call it art.” That is still a thing that is very important to me, in both my professional work, and also when I publish as a private person, on Are.na or wherever. I don't really care who sees it, I don't envision an audience. I do it for myself mostly. I'm super selfish — I don't want to explain it at all, I don’t want to optimize it to work well in a certain environment or get a lot of eyeballs or get a lot of feedback. I'm not looking for any of these things. I think that leads to a certain coded style; for some people, it's very hard to parse and they go away immediately, but for others, that’s where they start to be intrigued. I really like encoding and decoding things, and when I find someone who has a very particular style of writing, or a very particular style of designing a website, I get intrigued. That is something that is very important to how I approach any type of publishing online. I have weird hangups and I have weird interests, and I just want to express them as I can.