If I'm alone too long I think too much, and I'm not interested in doing that. That won't lead anywhere good, I'm sure. If I'm busy I tend to stay out of trouble. An idle mind is the devil's playground.

I don't think I realized what was going to be the hardest part of becaming an artist until I dove off the diving board ... first I had to overcome a pre-speculated idea of me. I had to sort of burst through that and introduce myself, and that was the first hurdle, and then now sing in front of everybody, and then that was the second one, and I'm the offspring of - you know, who I'm the offspring of - I had a few hurdles to get through, no doubt about it. But the scales never tipped in the other direction too much.

I live with the things that I love: art, furniture, and objects that I have collected throughout my travels.

When I write, it's purging for me. It's a therapeutic process.

People that were in my life for a long time turned sinister and tried to control me, and all kinds of weird stuff happened. But there was no conscience involved; that threw me more than anything.

I'm trying to have my own thing, and I don't know if it's even possible. I didn't realize so many people actually think I'm trying to be like my dad. I read comments like 'She's no Elvis.' I'm not trying to be. I never set out to be.

I've never even been out of my BMI range. I'm 5-foot-3. If I gain five pounds, it shows.