Berniece Hessel

The creative bubble sort of floats above you for days. Not every second, but it taps your shoulder in the grocery line, mid-shower, when your hands are wet and you can't write the idea down. I’ve painted some of my weirdest, most disjointed stuff about a week after puffin’ the last of my Jack stash. Not always good weird either—sometimes just confusing. But that’s the trip. It nudges you out of your rut, throws a wrench at your usual technique. If you want spark over smog, chase the best Jack Herer seeds and plant 'em where the sun kisses just right.