My work is an excuse to talk to people that otherwise I might not talk to.
I don’t call myself an artist, I call myself an illustrator.
My studio at Noonan Building will be coming down in four years. I’m trying to do my best enjoying it while it’s still here.
If you sneak in that abandoned building right there, you’ll see two pianos lying on the ground in the back. Isn’t it awesome?
Craft is so fetishized right now.
In her spare time, my partner Caroline flies experimental planes.
Given that everybody is spending a lot of their time in an immediate gratification digital world, it’s only a natural reaction that we’d go back to handmade imperfect objects.
Everything is commerce.
There are people who’ve always been making stuff and will continue to always make stuff.
I don’t know many artists who can afford a laser cutter.
I know some people who claim they are objective.
Everyone on the subway is a great model.
I got my arts degree and then I stopped drawing for eight years.
These days, I drink tea.
I don’t know much about sports, but the fireworks went off when the Giants won the world series, and it was cool.
I always wish, I was here an hour before I get here.
At some point, I switched from oil to watercolor. I can’t do anything else now.
Learn the rules, and then go against them but don’t forget about the structure.
My craft takes me places, and I’m grateful for it.
I adhere to the rules of documentary.
It’s amusing to see people in San Francisco charge ninety bucks for a handmade mug.
“You have to be able to afford to make crappy things”.
I’m into politics, but I also draw cats and illustrate cookbooks.
I moved my cell phone out of my bedroom.
The reason why people check their phones first thing in the morning is because it’s exciting to get an email that says that the world needs you today, even if it’s just a viagra promotion.
I was advised not to go off Instagram, and I’m glad I didn’t.
I have a shit ton to do today.