Even the way I fix my room, it’s a big arrangement of art—art I have made, or art I have found made by other people, or art I bought at yard sales, or things given to me. It is a soul-to-soul connection between me and other makers of things. When people come to visit me, their faces often light up, and they have an appreciation of things here. I make sure that every space is covered, as near as I can. Everything in here fills a void that is in me, living alone. I look up at every object in here, and my mind gets to work thinking about it, imagining what it is, or where it’s been.
