There's traditionally been a large disconnection in contemporary art between the audience and the artist. Generally, audiences are looking towards what they like, and I can tell you, that's the last thing on an artist's mind.

I have high expectations of my audience, and in general, I would say they've met that.

My aunt was Frances Hodges, who in the Fifties was the editor of 'Seventeen' and later one of the creators of 'Mademoiselle.' She was my Auntie Mame; she loved culture. She was a Quaker, but she became a milliner against all Quaker logic - they feel that fashion and art are vanities - because she loved fashion.

I've always been interested in arrival, and coming to a space, and even to looking back at where you were.

There was a time when I restored antique planes to support my art habit.

Generally, we use light to illuminate other things. I like the thingness, the materiality of light itself. So it feels like it's occupying the space, making a plane, being something that was there, not just passing through. Because light is just passing through. I make these spaces that seem to arrest it for our perception.

The people in L.A. do orient themselves to light. I used to call it 'Tan Fascist Culture.' Everyone there is tanned, wears dark sunglasses, looks like a movie star even when they're not.

All art is contemporary art because it had to be made when it was now.

I like to use light as a material, but my medium is actually perception. I want you to sense yourself sensing - to see yourself seeing.

I know that science is very interested in answers, and I'm just happy with a good question.

We're part of creating this world in which we live, but we're unaware of how we do that or even that we do that.

I don't know if I believe in art. I certainly believe in light.

I hope that when you see my work, you are looking at yourself looking.

In many cases, if we knew what it would take, we might have thought twice about it, so it's often wonderful that we don't have hindsight.

I feel that I want to use light as this wonderful and magic elixir that we drink as Vitamin D through the skin - and I mean, we are literally light-eaters - to then affect the way that we see.

I come from L.A. where there's a sense of show. But that's not a bad word in my mind. We say art 'show,' don't we? 'Show' implies entertainment.

Each day is a different length of time and that gives a different length to the cusp between light and darkness or darkness and light.

I apprehend light - I make events that shape or contain light.

When you sit down and see someone play at a piano, you don't think, 'Wow - what a fantastic machine.'

I want to create an atmosphere that can be consciously plumbed with seeing... like the wordless thought that comes from looking in a fire.

It is only when light is reduced that the pupil opens and feeling goes out of the eyes like touch.

In age of consumerism and materialism, I traffic in blue sky and colored air.

I wanted to deal with light directly rather than with paint.

We have spent billions to go to the moon - we go to this lesser satellite called the moon and say we are in space, but we are in space right now; we just don't feel ourselves to be in space. Some forms of art and some forms of spirituality do give us that sense.

We use the vocabulary of light to describe a spiritual experience.

I am interested in the physicality of light itself.

I live in the sky as a pilot, so it has great meaning to me.

I like illusion when it is so convincing that we might as well see reality this way - I like to present to our belief system something that is convincing, that 'we know not to be.'

Planets' orbits are elliptical. It's a very pleasing shape.

I don't think my work is about the spiritual life, but it certainly touches on it.

To some degree, to control light, I have to have a way to form it, so I use form almost like the stretcher bar of a canvas.

Color is just in a small area of our vision, and the rest we add with the mind.

This wonderful elixir of light is the thing that actually connects the immaterial with the material - that connects the cosmic to the plain everyday existence that we try to live in.

I don't want you looking at the light fixture; I want you looking at where light goes. But more than that, I'm interested in the effect of light upon you and your perceptions.

I always thought that people who live in the desert are a little crazy. It could be that the desert attracts that kind of person, or that after living there, you become that. It doesn't make much difference. But now I've done my 40 years in the desert.

The wonderful thing about being an artist in L.A. is that there is no taste. There's anarchy of taste, which seems good to me.

I have made things for Calvin Klein and other designers, and it's interesting to see the way each person approaches it.

If you take blue paint and yellow paint and you mix them, you get green paint. But if you take blue light and yellow light and mix them, you get white light. This is a shock to most people.

The Quakers don't believe in music or art; they think it's a vanity.

In Arizona, we're at 7,000 feet, so we're above half of the world's atmosphere. It's crisp but hard, a side-raking light that can be revealing but doesn't have the softness that maritime air has.

I started out with projected-light works and working indoors, but I'd prepare the walls - by sanding, etcetera - the way you'd prepare a canvas for painting.

Sometimes I'm kind of cranky coming to see something. I saw the Mona Lisa when it was in L.A., saw it for 13 seconds and had to move on.

There's truth in light. You can tell what elements a star is composed of and the temperature at which it burns by the light it gives off.

I look at light as a material. It is physical. It is photons. Yes, it exhibits wave behavior, but it is a thing.

It's difficult for people to visualize from my drawings what it's going to be, so I often find myself talking them into things that they go along with, and when they see what's been made, they are surprised.

We live within this reality we create, and we're quite unaware of how we create the reality.

I used to think that only people who were crazy were attracted to the desert, but once you've lived there, you become that way anyway.

This idea that light plays an important part in our life is important to me.

At my first exhibits, people were saying that's just a light on the wall.