I realized that I wasn't naturally born to good taste. I understand what it is, but I am happy to wear bright colors. I do have a few items of black clothing, but I think good taste and doing the same thing over and over again is what the whole art world has become.

Warhol was a prime example of a schizoid person. Maybe he had Asperger's, or maybe he was just an amorous human being on earth.

When you're younger, you go out and you're convivial because you have to be. But once you don't have to meet people anymore, what's your motivation in going out?

I feel like I have to avoid certain thrift store-isms, having been known for the thrift store paintings. It's like I have to not paint that way.

One thing I noticed over time is that if I got a bad review, usually the bad part of it was at the very end. I could tell that nobody read the whole review because they would just say, "It was great to see the review!" In a way, my brain shuts down at the end of an article. It doesn't really want to go to the end.

I feel like schizoid is a precursor to schizophrenia or manic depression. I feel like I'm manic. I have parts of schizoid, parts of Asperger's. I'm a smorgasbord of neuroses.

There's so much art and it's gotten so flashy. In the global marketplace, having art that's shiny and has neon lights is almost what you need for anyone to notice it in an art fair situation - and art fairs seem to be more and more the only thing there is.