“I think my grandfather may have the correct approach to art. He’s had a long career, and in his retirement he’s been working on building a boat. I doubt he’ll ever finish it, but I don’t think that’s particularly important to him. He wakes up every morning, drinks his cup of coffee, then goes out to his workshop to sand a tiny portion of wood. He doesn’t need to finish that boat to pay the rent. He can afford to have some distance from it, so he gets to enjoy it. He looks at that boat tenderly, like he looks at his grandkids. He gets to have a dream without the necessity of achieving it.”
"Do you have any advice for other fishermen?" "You have to sneak up on them and catch them real fast. And you have to wear boots. I once caught a monster fish that went all the way up to the sky like a giant. I like giants. But not mean giants. I like nice giants."
"My son was a documentarian in Portland, too. He made a film about the homeless population and it won some awards. He decided that to get the real story he’d live on the streets too and really get to know the people. But he became a heroin addict and it’s what killed him. He died of an overdose."
(2nd photo: Thank you to my husband, Ben, for capturing the moment we were talking.)