I am trying my hand at organizing a little art group, sort of a “Stitch N Bitch” without the stitching. I’m pretty excited about it because I recall the Zen-ness of my high school art class.

It was the great equalizer; people from all walks of life are creative in their own way, and I loved listening to the class dorky musician suddenly find something hilariously in common with the class stoner. And then proceed to free-associate in a monotone, while sculpting for an hour or two about crazy stuff such as:

“Hey, Mr. Pleece-man, don’t arrest me…that’s not pot, that’s doughnuts. I got the munchies. Here, have a jelly.”

To this day, I have no idea what Jason Botkin was rambling to Matt Turner about, but I do know that it cracked Matt up, and the whole thing cracked everyone else up. To me, that’s the beauty of producing art. It gets you out of the logical side of your head and makes you think differently, and it makes people get to know each other on a different level.