Andrew’s dad warned him not to marry an artist when he was young, because his dad married an artist, who also gets hyper fixated on art a lot. It’s hard to love an artist, his dad said. But he fell hard, an artist stole his heart and ran with it. Now he’s walking down to your studio in the bottom of your home, while his studio was up in the attic. He goes all the way down to find you on the floor, making something.

Andrew: “Honey, do you know what time it is?… in other words, it’s bed time.”