I think it was my mom's attitude about art and being part of the narcissistic digital generation or whatever that made me think anyone would care what I had to say about anything!

I'm really thankful for every experience I've had, even the ones that were puzzling or disorienting, because they taught me so much.

The idea that feeling confident and feeling misunderstood are mutually exclusive really bugs me.

When you're a kid you're already trying to create your own world and organize the one in front of you, but then you get all insecure around 6th grade and don't think you have a right to share that.

Half of my closet is Barbie clothes - PVC skirts, cropped fuzzy sweaters, and velvet minis.

It brings me no joy and not enough comfort to dwell too much on things I've said or written or made or worn in the past.