I perceive my “inner artist” as a separate, mysterious entity with boundless energy that wanders mostly hidden in the recesses of my mind, and regards me as simply the “meat person” to carry out its wishes...which is fine by me...

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Full-time Oregon artist since 1995, fluent in several media. Voraciously experimenting—since curiosity is on fire but life is fleeting.

From my own inner experience (epic dreams, for example), and the relayed experiences of others, it appears our brains have virtually infinite powers of imagination. What an awesome tool to have at our disposal!

 

Our intelligent awareness is a phenomenon that resists quantitative explanation, but I think it’s a perpetual illusion that sustains our perception of ourselves from cradle to grave. In other words, our imagination hosts our sense of who we are.

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"We are the universe, observing itself..."