Christine

Who's this person?

Who's this person?

Nothing? Yeah, my wife told me she loved me. That's a surprise. That's a surprise. That's right. There you go.

Nothing? Yeah, my wife told me she loved me. That's a surprise. That's a surprise. That's right. There you go.

Nothing? Yeah, my wife told me she loved me. That's a surprise. That's a surprise. That's right. There you go.

That's true.

That's true.

That's true.

I will say.

I will say.

I will say.

We're everywhere.

We're everywhere.

We're everywhere.

That's good.

That's good.

That's good.

Well, hello. I'm Christine. I'm calling from San Marcos, Texas, just outside of one of your favorite towns of Austin. And my question today is about enoughness. Because I've worked for two decades with materials, I'm an artist, that would otherwise go in the trash. So I've thought a lot about this idea of what is enough, both personally and as a collective.

Well, hello. I'm Christine. I'm calling from San Marcos, Texas, just outside of one of your favorite towns of Austin. And my question today is about enoughness. Because I've worked for two decades with materials, I'm an artist, that would otherwise go in the trash. So I've thought a lot about this idea of what is enough, both personally and as a collective.

Well, hello. I'm Christine. I'm calling from San Marcos, Texas, just outside of one of your favorite towns of Austin. And my question today is about enoughness. Because I've worked for two decades with materials, I'm an artist, that would otherwise go in the trash. So I've thought a lot about this idea of what is enough, both personally and as a collective.