I'm not a purist. I'm not impure enough to be a purist.

The idea of fame is repulsive, I want to save the world.

Pompeii, especially, with its grand murals and its flourishing gardens haunted by the dark shadow of Vesuvius, has always suggested uncomfortable parallels with our contemporary world, especially here in Southern California, where the sunlit life also turns out to have dark shadows in which failure and death lurk at the edge of consciousness. Now in these times, we have even closer parallels with those ancient, beautiful, affluent people living the good life on the verge of annihilation.

The Internet is not a place. It’s a great void, a black hole, from which you can call up an incredible amount of disorganized information.

I'm not a purist. I'm not impure enough to be a purist.

I adore [photography's] uneasy mix of fact and fiction - its dubious claim to truth - its status as history.

[There was] an openness not found on the East Coast and a generosity of spirit. New York was always formulating the correct ways to work and think while back here [in California] we were always eager to be surprised and engaged in new ways.