You mention that you used to just make stuff -- and then at some point it transitioned to art. Were there any profound experiences that led you from the making stuff stage to the art stage?
It was a gradual transformation. I think part of it is living long enough to see things go wrong. As a child, I made things at the beach, and I think that was the beginning of my art making. But I had the innocence of a child. As I matured and saw that the world actually had painful experiences in it and that things fell apart, it became more of a serious endeavor. And then, eventually, it became something I wanted to share. . . . to show how much power people have especially in a group.
People say things like, "wow look what I did'" or "look what we did"-- and "look how we all got along." It's especially true when I work with children, children who don't even know each other. I think it's because of a primal need to create. And when you're creating, it's hard to go back to all of the negative feelings.
What's the most spontaneous you've been. Do you stop the car -- do your friends get annoyed with you?
I don't think I've ever taken a walk in Berkeley without picking up a leaf -- maybe a few times if I'm in a hurry. My friends aren't annoyed with me, they do understand. And I've definitely stopped the car to pick up branches that have fallen down, and put them in my trunk. I have this collection of materials and that's where they've come from. It's not stuff I've harvested from nature. It's stuff that's been left and discarded.
You talk about this at your website -- about the idea of looking at an object in a completely different way. Attending your Nature Sculpture Arena changed my paradigm in that regard.
I think art making in general -- and also art viewing, just going to a museum -- tunes up your senses and it makes you see things differently. When I was working in the creeks [Art to Action on Berkeley Creeks] a child came over to me and said he wanted to show me something.
He brought me to the creek bed. We're looking down through the water at some stones and he says, "I want to use one of those stones, but I'm not sure if that's someone's art piece or not" -- because there was a triangle of stones on the bottom of the creek. My opinion was that the triangle of stones was a naturally occurring triangle. But because his eyes had been tuned up from the art making, he saw that pattern and he said, if it's a pattern maybe it's man-made. And maybe that stone isn't free for the taking. I told him, "you know I think that's made by nature and you can leave it there if you want or you can take the stone."
You mention art being inherently helpful in terms of inspiring those types of creative ideas. Do people develop a certain degree of respect at the same time?
Yes, and some of the projects also are very distinctly about respect or protection of nature, like projects where we've pulled out invasive plants and then used them as materials. Then, in the course of making your art, you're actually taking action on behalf of the environment.
What is the most difficult feat that you've achieved in terms of a sculpture?
The actual art making, even when it's a struggle, to me it doesn't feel difficult. There's one sculpture at my website that only has three stones in it, but it took an hour to make. Those three stones had to be balanced in a very particular way. I mention in that blurb how I was sweating, it was a hot day, and they were big rocks. It took an hour. But as I was doing it, I don't think I had a sense of difficulty about it. It was more like the feeling you get from a really good workout. Maybe it's just my nature that I don't view life as all that difficult in general. Or maybe it's the result of having seen so many things fall apart and fall down - it seems less difficult.