“I want to sink beneath the archive. Go below the sheetrock of its degrading palace and touch a cluster of histories that no document can effectively contain. It’s an impulse like kink-sex without penetration. Like a lamp and I’m a bug into electric shock. It’s a mess. It’s camp. It’s pushed me to paint, to sculpt, to write, to dance. I will try anything to squeeze myself into the drains where residue collects.”