I’ve lost count of what I’ve done and how many.

Apparently my storage system is a little wacky—

I remember working on an image,

but later I can’t find it.

Then it pops up like an Easter egg.

There are worse things.

Lately, Marcel Duchamp has been on my mind.

I haven’t attempted a tribute—he’s too complicated.

I haven’t done Dali either.

Well—I tried Dali once, but it offended me.

I had to tear it up.

Back to Duchamp.

Art historians call him the one who freed Art.

They also say Fountain is the most important artwork in history.

Duchamp promoted the Found Art Movement.

He would find an object, declare it Art, and put it in his next show.

A stool with a bicycle wheel.

A pane of glass with trapped debris.

If you thought he was joking, he’d hit you with a fifty-page monograph

detailing the philosophical and mechanical underpinnings of the piece.

Duchamp was the real deal.

Art is made by artists—

not defined by critics, gallery owners, or even the public.

It may not be liked.

It may be dismissed.

But if the artist makes it,

it is Art.

There’s a freedom in that.

Art isn’t bound to a medium.

It doesn’t have to be archival.

That’s a museum policy—not a definition.

Questions like:

What is truth? What is beauty? What is art?

These feel like things we should know.

But usually, in our desire to know, we get them wrong.

At the very least, we can define them for ourselves.

I’ve been going through a change lately.

I no longer create art.

I make art.

It seems like a small thing—just a shift in words—

but I’m serious.

Everything in the universe was created in one instance.

Since that time (and yes, time was created too),

nothing has been destroyed.

Everything has simply changed.

I take created things and make new things.

I create nothing.

But I am a prolific maker.

What about ideas?

Same thing.

Everything is built up.

I just put things together.

Of course, this is just my view.

I’m not saying it’s true for anyone else.

It’s simply what I believe—for me.

There’s too much responsibility in being a creator.

Too many liabilities.

Too much ego.

Putting a few things together is more honest.

More humbling.

And what about the days, hours, or months when I’m not creating?

Much easier to take a break from putting things together.

I’m just resting.

Yep—

I make art.

And I make it art.