"I've been trying to articulate what I want out of art since exiting the various genres of capitalist social realism. The good now seems to me to be a constant 'evolution' of attitudes by way of experimentation, like the evolution-without-discernable-direction that resulted in the webbed feet of ducks. There's no teleology there. Webbed feet weren't arrived at for any sort of reason; they were just an accident that worked and kept on working. Marx wrote fan mail to Darwin about this. Perhaps a progressive approach to commercial processes would be more like Death taking you by the hand at the best Sheryl Crow concert you've ever been to. Except even after you've accepted that this is what has to happen, it's still hard to hold Death's hand because he's wearing Ring Pops on each bony finger.
I'm not trying to say I feel particularly liberated as an artist with ideas like this. I've thought about buying a boat and learning how to fish so that I could eat the sea and drink the rain, free from the obligations of a rented apartment and an occupation. Perhaps I should invest in the future and start saving and owning, instead of sleeping in living rooms and unfamiliar beds, all just to make things that no one can use. I start to imagine the infinity of death and I panic, trembling from within this closed loop of thought, even as it connects me to everyone else who has ever existed. Being a person means being paranoid that you might be a puppet—of economic networks, or social convention, or genetic code. And being an artist means making things that you want to see exist, to defy that paranoia, by communicating past anything you could rationally explain away."
— Andrew Norman Wilson