You can't stumble upon something new and wonderful if you don't have time to stumble.

It's good for art to make us think, to give us a shared experience that creates a dialogue, makes us talk to each other, including strangers.

The spaces I want to be in are nurturing and soft and saturated with color. Our cities don't have enough of that, and as humans we need it.

I recognize that it is through the engagement with my craft - by recognizing an idea and drawing it out, building physical models, collaborating with experts, constructing the sculptures at urban scale, and maintaining them through years of weather and interaction with the public - that a new art for cities has become real.

Advances in technology have opened up possibilities in the cultural realm throughout history. I'm intrigued by developments in technology - as an artist it gives me a new palette to explore.

The most powerful part of the art is experiential, yet it's the hardest to describe because it's nonverbal.

I never studied sculpture, engineering or architecture. In fact, after college I applied to seven art schools and was rejected by all seven.

My monumental netted sculptural environments move through time, animated by an ever-changing 'wind choreography,' making invisible air currents suddenly visible to the human eye. I make living, breathing pieces that respond to the forces of nature - wind, light, water.

My whole career I've been interested by the distinction between an emotional and an intellectual response to an artwork.

I believe people can have a profound experience by being surrounded by something beautiful - that's what I aim for. My sculpture is about the way you feel when you're standing under it and inside it. It's experiential art.