I don't want to do architecture that's dry and dull.

My father was an urchin that lived in Hell's Kitchen. He was part of a family of nine. I mean, there were times that were better and worse, but mostly, by the time we got to L.A., they'd lost whatever they had. And it was a sad time. And both he and I became truck drivers for different companies.

I can't just decide myself what's being built. Someone decides what they want, then I work for them.

People live and work in uninspiring environments, but look inside those rooms. Look at the painted walls and the decorations. People rebel even in the most controlled office environment in which they're not allowed to do anything. You see the little bulletin board in front of a person's desk with their photos, clippings, cartoons and whatever else.

We deny our nature to build and create and then wonder why there is so much alienation and dissatisfaction.

Architecture should speak of its time and place, but yearn for timelessness.

Anybody I talk to agrees that maybe 2 percent of the building environment since the war, we could call architecture.