Q: The collaborative process between me and Claire Bridge has been good so far. Upon finding out her email address we had a brief email exchange culminating in me sending her a list of potential questions for the interview. Claire quite liked a lot of the questions, but overall there were too many, so we proceeded to reduce the number of questions to six main questions. These questions would then form the basis of the artist portrait, with an attempt to limit answers to no more than a minute, so little had to be cut for the final edit. The six questions we arrived at are as follows: How would you define creativity? What does it mean to you to be an artist? Do you feel a painting or piece of art can house an energy/a feeling from the original artist? Do you feel that your own works house this energy? Change and transformation are recurrent themes in your work. What are you exploring and why do these fascinate you? And recently we saw a change in your medium too, incorporating video works and photography. You seem to draw on many influences in your work, from quantum physics, astrophysics, to environmental ecology, psychology, philosophy and metaphysics. With titles like "Dark Matter", "Touching Infinity", "We are made of Stars", "Rising tides" and "A drop in the ocean" or "Alchemy". Can you tell us something more about the convergence of these ideas and influences? What continues to motivate and inspire you as an artist? We both felt these questions addressed the initial topic of exploring creativity, explored why Claire became an artist, gives insight into Claire's work and practise and looks toward the future of Claire's practice. After refining the questions, we proceeded to organise a day to film, which will be on the 16th September. Hopefully if all goes well we will both have an artist portrait that lives up to our expectations. Question: How long did the interview segment between the author and Claire last? === The answer to the above question is

OPTIONS:
- over several hours
- several minutes to an hour
- not enough information
- over a few days

A: several minutes to an hour

input: OPTIONS:
- She's losing track of herself.
- Mental illness.
- She can't remember who she is.
- not enough information Now, answer this question: "Please remember me to myself!" When sliding toward mania in 2016, I begged this of my therapist. He cocked his head. "What do you mean?" I had no ideaon a conscious levelwhat I was asking for, just that I felt in a desperate sense that the self I knew was slipping away. An inability to recognize myself either in my writing or in reflecting upon my own actions was taking over. And then? I didn't care. I wanted to kiss girls. Which is finejust not something I ordinarily do. I wanted to drink, smoke. Again, finebut not something I ordinarily do. "Do I seemokay?" I asked a colleague at work. A woman I barely knew. Insanely, I thought that since she worked with disabled students, many of whom struggled with mental illness, she would know mania when she saw it. This was a rather foolish assumptionespecially since she's an educator, not a psychiatrist, especially with how skilled I am at wearing the mask of calm, the face of sanity. "You seem great, Julie. Cheery. Professional as always." I let her reassurance placate me. Wanted to be placated. Yet, within months I lost my job. And not only that, but a chance at a scholarship, two really important long term friendshipsrelationships I'd enjoyed since high school. I was hospitalized three times between September and February. I lost my ability to trust myself, lost my mind. It is now a little over two years since I first felt that sliding. Twenty-six months since I knew that somewhere in the deepest parts of who I am, I was slipping. Nine seasons since I begged Dr. Poe, "Remember me to myself!" I'm still recuperating. Yes. I have felt like I wasn't me. Question: What does Julie think her problem is? === The answer to the above question is
A:
output: Mental illness.

Problem:OPTIONS:
- his wife
- not enough information
- Kurt
- his grandpa

Kurt Vonnegut, writer and famous speech giver at US university graduation ceremonies, made this point to one group of soon-to-be-non-students: If this isn't nice, I don't know what is. It is the end of a story about his grandpa who, on a summer's afternoon, would find the shade of a tree under which he could rest with a glass of homemade lemonade. The family didn't have a lot of cash, the grandpa worked hard every day of his life, but no matter how relentless the day-to-day was, he would always repeat this phrase as a reminder to those around him that, at the end of the day, this is all still amazing to be part of. This kind of optimism, as you might call it, can often disappear in a flash in the busy-ness of business or school. Things become impossible, hardgoing, relentless(ly difficult). And the reasons we give for that busyness nearly always involve someone or something else - the system, the job, the weather... For many years, people would ask the salutary "how are you?" and my answer was a stock one: "I'm tired." It was my wife who pointed it out to me, presumably because everyone else was too polite to express their boredom with my reply. The fact is, most people feel tired most of the time, until they make a switch in their life. That switch is deciding that the only person who can turn that frown upside down, who can make crazy stuff happen (or attempt to, and enjoy the process), is you. And in Vonnegut's case, that switch came from saying out loud the one phrase that brings us back to the good elements in what we or our team or our family is doing at any given moment: If this isn't nice, I don't know what is. Question: Who pointed out to the author that everyone was bored with his reply? === The answer to the above question is
****
A:
his wife