Well, I'm always working on my comic strip and trying to, you know, keep cranking that out.

My father once nearly came to blows with a female dinner guest about whether a particular patch of embroidery was fuchsia or magenta. But the infinite gradations of color in a fine sunset - from salmon to canary to midnight blue - left him wordless.

If it weren't for the unconventionality of my desires, my mind might never have been forced to reckon with my body.

Basically, my work is play. It never actually feels that way - I'm always aiming to attain that state. But I get to do for a living what I did as a child for fun, and that's pretty cool.

Yeah, I read Judy Blume. My mother didn't like that, but I read it anyhow.

The writing is hard, and the drawing is fun. It's very satisfying to see a drawing start to come together.

I wish I had a typical workday. I struggle to get up at seven and almost always fail. I just try to get to my office as soon as I can, but it's always later than I would like.