When I was growing up and going to art school and learning about African-American art, much of it was a type of political art that was very didactic and based on the '60s, and a social collective.

Artists are those people who sit at the intersection between the known and unknown, the rational and irrational, coming to terms with some of the confusing histories we, as artists, deal with.

In a sense, we are all victims of the misogyny and racism that exist in the world, no matter what our gender or race happens to be.

I'm about looking at each of those perceived menacing black men that you see in the streets all over the place, people that you oftentimes will walk past without assuming that they have the same humanity, fears that we all do.

My mother emigrated from Russia as a young child. She couldn't speak English and had no education. Her father died at age 32, leaving the family destitute. An uncle, who worked as a carpenter, supported the family.

I took time off from school and traveled to Italy when I was 19, living with my extended family members. I must have slept in 30 different houses those months, taken in by people who'd never even met me.

We go to Montana every year - that's where my husband is from - Flathead Lake, Montana, which is one of the most beautiful places I've ever been to in my life. It's amazing that his entire family lives there. There's waterskiing, jet skiing, and kayaking, and it's just really fun.

The Jersey Shore is the kind of place where the policeman has a little cottage that might have been in the family for years and many other people call home.