I paint digitally now. A pity, in some ways, as the biggest price one pays is that you no longer have a finished piece of physical art to hang on a wall. I miss that terribly.

I grew up in Los Angeles and always wished I'd spent a childhood in a far different place.

Liberal, shmiberal. That should be a new word. Shmiberal: one who is assumed liberal, just because he's a professional whiner in the newspaper. If you'll read the subtext for many of those old strips, you'll find the heart of an old-fashioned Libertarian. And I'd be a Libertarian, if they weren't all a bunch of tax-dodging professional whiners.

The universe throws us some obvious little pitches sometimes, and we need to be awake enough not to let them slip by.

He comic page is dying; I didn't want to go with it.

I could draw Bloom County with my nose and pay my cleaning lady to write it, and I'd bet I wouldn't lose 10% of my papers over the next twenty years. Such is the nature of comic-strips. Once established, their half-life is usually more than nuclear waste.

I ignore Hallmark Holidays. And this comes from a guy who has sold a million Opus greeting cards.