AS:  My first post was last September; I had a new baby and doubted I'd be leaving the house much. I wanted a place for a certain kind of talk. Business chatter on prices, shipping, invoicing, and so forth consumes much of my time as an artist, so I wanted a place to mull over creative issues.

I once had a chance to visit a private arts club in New York. One of its members, Stephen Shore, had a little table where he was showing other members some of his digital books. It seemed like such a great place to exchange ideas. I later learned that one of the rules of the club is that you aren't allowed to talk business.

A lot of artists are hungry for that kind of interaction. We read about the Cedar Tavern, and it sounds so romantic. But what if you live in Minneapolis with two kids? The blog is as close as I get to the Cedar Tavern.

As for time, well, I guess I spend a lot of time at the virtual bar — but it's by my choosing. I never want it to feel like work, and I do take breaks. When I'm traveling and shooting, the blog goes quiet.

AS:  As a photographer, I've tried not to be limited to a single subject. I want to mix portraiture with landscape and still life. I want to be loose. The same is true for the blog. I don't have an agenda other than to keep following my eye.

AS:  It's a community. Folks like Joerg Colberg, Christian Patterson, Todd Deutsch, Brian Ulrich, and Zoe Strauss are my buddies. I read them because I think they're smart and funny and they show me new things.

AS:  A blog is not a diary. Big or small, there's always an audience. One thing I've learned is that when you have an audience, there is a good chance you'll be misinterpreted. This is especially true of anything lighthearted. You asked earlier about my voice. One of the great frustrations with Internet communication is that you don't really have a voice. Absent are the subtleties of tone and facial expression. People misread things all the time. It's frustrating.

AS:  Earlier I said that it's important for me to not be limited to a single subject. In the same way, I don't want to be limited to a single context. I want to show my work at Gagosian Gallery and in the New York Times Magazine. Historically, there's been a big gap between these two worlds. I use the blog to grapple with this disparity.

AS:  Every week, I get an email from a student or young photographer. Generally they ask me either a technical question (what kind of camera do you use?) or a career question (how do you get a gallery?). I figured the blog was a way to respond publicly so that I didn't have to keep repeating myself.

I didn't actually write a big essay on W magazine. I just mentioned that it was on the newsstands, but people started asking me questions and I responded.

While I enjoy this kind of exchange, I try to limit how much I talk about my own work.

AS:  It is good to have some sort of presence, but I don't think I need to maintain it myself. I'm on the Gagosian and Magnum websites. That's probably enough. My own website is handy as a central gathering place for information about projects, exhibitions, lectures, etc. The blog is something altogether different. It's not a promotional tool. If anything, I think it probably works against me. The art world is about exclusivity, and blogs are about availability. I don't remember reading Robert Ryman's blog, but he seems to be doing OK.

AS:  Absolutely. I'd forgotten how much I missed writing college papers. When you are forced to string words together about a subject, a new kind of thinking emerges. You look more closely, you research, and one idea leads to the next.

With my photography, I'm a big believer in serendipity. The goal is to find the flow of things. With the blog, I feel like I'm exercising my serendipity muscle.