Another aspect of the psychedelic vision for me that has been very profound, is the sense that every-thing is alive or at that at least, there is no distinction between what we call living and non-living.
I wouldn't say you have an online life and a real life. I think technology is just mapping and organizing what already exists.
It's weird, like, my life has always imitated art, and my art has always imitated life.
I don't see such a huge difference between online and 'in real life'. I think it has now become one and the same.
I was hanging out with some of my friends who are on television shows, and when we went to get lunch, people came up to me and not them. It was this really weird moment where you're realizing that the digital world is getting so big, and it's colliding with everything else.
There's really no differentiation between the work I make and the world I live in.
I grew into it. It grew into me. It and I blurred at the edges, became one amorphous, seeping, crawling thing.
Classically posh girls like Victoria Hervey are now trying to be Hollywood girls. Hollywood girls are trying to be posh girls. Everything is all mixed up, turned on its head.
I am temperamentally drawn to work that shoves the strange and normal against one another, it's true, although I don't see the 'strange' and the 'normal' as being two separate categories of experience; for me, they are intertwined, hard to separate.
For many of us, we imagine that separation is crucial, the time for your mind to switch from one thing to another is important. And there are other people who are much more comfortable with that barrier being on a spectrum, always working or always semi-working.
People and places are the source of my work, both in prose and verse-and this remark is not the truism it seems, for I do not distinguish as sharply between a place and a person as most people seem to do.
