One huge problem with art lies with the extent of artists who need to connect with an audience. What I’m talking about is a relationship with art. The success of this relationship seems to rely on a certain limitation of public interaction. It’s not absurd to regard art as a coded outcry to be loved properly; therefore when you start giving it away it invariably dilutes in an almost alchemical sense. This pervading sort of pathetic hopefulness—the idea of wowing people, is corrupt from the start. I find it disgustingly vain and needy. So to undercut all that it’s been my method of obsessively questioning the purity of an expression and accepting its expiration date so I’m only left with the inception of the idea when it’s most exciting. I realize that some of the truth behind this is that I can’t endure defeat gracefully, so I act fast and take what I can. Achievements mean little; any enjoyment I’m lucky enough to scrape up usually just gets buried in the process anyway.

– Mark McCoy (from DC’s)