I see my large nose, like half an avocado. I broke it falling downstairs when I was six, and it now resembles a large blob of play-dough.

My eyebrows could do with a trim.

The real change that paintings undergo is in the perceptions of the viewer.

I'm an armchair kind of guy, especially when it's raining, which it always is and always will be.

About every four years, someone says to me, "I've got a friend who looks exactly like you." What can you say to this?

Global warming, the ongoing destruction of the planet, Third World debt, the uselessness of the railways, the takeover by the corporations, the scary George Bush person: all these things are important and should be animating me into outrage. Yet somehow they do not.

The best way to prepare for a night out with a Shakespearean tragedy is to do a bit of reading up in the afternoon, eat a light supper - perhaps Welsh rarebit - and then arrive early to do some stretching exercises in the foyer before curtain-up.