75: Eng Interview 5 — Nigh Magazine

What I tend to protect most is spontaneity. That idea that shows up suddenly and, for a moment, feels like it holds something real. If it starts getting edited, corrected, or explained too early, it dies. It really loses its vital energy for me. So I try to protect that initial impulse, because sometimes the strength of the piece is right there, in what hasn’t been fully thought through yet.

You’ve mentioned that solitude can trigger creativity. Are there daily rhythms or quiet habits that help you ease into your creative process?

Solitude is my starting point. I don’t just mean being physically alone, but entering a mental state where I’m not available for anything else. Sometimes that happens early in the morning, before the day begins for everyone else. Other times it comes after listening to music, or even while I’m tidying up my studio. I don’t have fixed habits, but I do notice certain gestures that repeat: moving objects around, writing down loose phrases, staring at something for several minutes… as if everything that comes next depends on that invisible preparation.

Is there something you often return to when starting a new piece?

I don’t have a fixed entry point when I begin a piece. Sometimes the process starts with something very simple: a basic shape, a poem, even a single word, a lingering mental image, or even a physical sensation. Often, that first impulse comes from my surroundings: a misplaced object, the direction of light, a repeating sound, or something someone said unintentionally. It can also come from a dream, which sometimes wakes me up and pushes me to jot something down quickly.
But I don’t need a fully formed idea to begin. Sometimes it’s enough not to expect anything at all just to “see what happens” when I sit down in front of a piece of paper, the iPad, or the computer. There are certain elements I tend to return to, and they almost always relate to very basic geometric forms: a line, an angle, an elementary shape. From there, I start to see what might happen. I’m drawn to simple structures that can expand or shift direction without being fully closed. Sometimes I use a neutral typeface as a starting point because it carries no narrative weight and allows me to keep things open. What I’m looking for is a beginning that offers some direction without locking anything in too early. I also try to protect the early stages of the process. Some ideas show up with a certain force, almost by accident, and if they’re edited or overthought too quickly, they lose energy. When that happens, I prefer not to intervene directly… there will be time to refine it later, if needed.