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I make art for criminals and outlaws. I learned bookbinding from my parents, who learned the craft from felons trained in the American prison system. My first sculptures were books, and by my teenage years, I was an expert bookbinder and forger, producing traditional cordbound leather books during the day, and fake IDs and documents at night. I didn’t go to school to learn about art, I dropped out of school because I wasn’t learning enough about making things. I spent years pursuing knowledge in studios, traveling from Montana to New Orleans and back to Washington State, learning printmaking, bookbinding, glassblowing, blacksmithing and woodworking. In 2006, glassblowing, modern art and the illicit drug trade converged in south Tacoma, and I started producing large glass vessels for my basement drug lab and using my contemporary sculpture practice as a backdrop. Producing an ounce a week of pure MDMA, I used the funds to buy a camera and produce large scale installations. It was representation and still-life, an abstraction of domestic life and common objects, a modern day Duchamp moment, the found urinal replaced by a handmade separatory funnel, an object just as crucial to a drug lab as a urinal to a bathroom.