When I was 19 I went to art school. I had six months of teaching myself to play baritone ukulele under my belt so I was sort of a novice folkie... I was singing folk songs at that time.

The coming of the kids hasn't come out in my art yet.

I got in before SoHo was SoHo. It was just Little Italy when I was in there. It's still off the touristy track. It's just away from the Saturday action, the crowds and everything. It's too expensive. It's insane. You've got to be a billionaire to live on Manhattan now.

I was anti-intellectual to the nth. Basically I liked to dance and paint, and that was about it.

Bows and flows of angel hair and ice cream castles in the air and feather canyons everywhere, I've looked at clouds that way.

Everybody's saying hell's the hippest way to go. Well, I don't think so, but I'm gonna take a look around it though.

I'm irresponsible to my career in order to paint. Because painting is obsessive. I forget to eat. I forget to sleep.