It's a dream, and if I stop to think about it, I can get lost in the sheer wonder of it. I don't mean to sound vague, or mystical, about it, but that's the truth of what happened. I spent a good dozen years as an actor, for crying out loud. But when I was ready, my subconscious made a call, and the universe answered. It's similar to the way I think most artists work.
Inspiration is the thing that happens between thoughts.
The ancient Greeks believed that Heaven worked directly through the artist's arm, connecting, in some divine firewire linkup, through the top of the shoulder and bypassing the head altogether. I'm not sure they were wrong. The best ideas sneak up on you when you're thinking about other things. I suppose I ought to point to my artist heroes, the filmmakers, cartoonists, painters and others whose work I rely on daily for direction and regularly steal from. But what I think of first is not them.