So, I'm on Sesame Street, walking around with all these monsters, Elmo and his buddies, a whole bunch of chickens, a whole bunch of penguins and a number four dancing about. It was just pure joy, simple, ridiculous fun, stupid joy. There's no irony. Sesame Street is just a crazy great place to be.

I guess there are a lot of people out there that think they're supposed to define themselves in isolation, but that's not necessarily the case.

I said I'd stop for a year, which was inconceivable to me and everyone around me. It seemed like so long. But then, after that year, I looked up and I still hadn't gotten my land legs back at all.

All the girls who have photos of them at parties, like, "Woo!" - that's what someone's going to see of their grandma.

I like being swept up in weather and observing it as something beautiful and giant. It makes you feel so minute. The only thing as big as that are your thoughts about it, which can expand exponentially while your physical self is just trapped. It's a pretty awesome feeling, in the original sense of the word.

Surreal can be exciting and good, and it can be like living inside an alien landscape, and it can be completely interesting, or you can be alienated from your own life - inside your own life, it doesnt feel familiar any more.

I'm in the countryside outside of Paris, in a beautiful old manor house. The studio is in the basement, but we decided to set everything up in the old parlor and dining-room area so we can look at each other and (at) the sunshine coming through the stained-glass windows. It's pretty idyllic, and I think it's spoiling me. I'll have to go back to regular life after this.