When headphones wouldn’t block the penetrating sound of jackhammers outside my dorm one morning, I fled to the sound insulation of water at the swimming pool, where I heard…another jackhammer. The sound infiltrated my body. I almost chuckled to myself, I HEAR MACHINES UNDERWATER. Before I allowed myself to get pissed I realized: I can either reject my environment or let it fuel my creative process. If I think about using my experience as artistic inspiration, my anger feels controlled and directed.

I HEAR MACHINES UNDERWATER