Trying to be a professional dancer, paying my rent by posing nude for art classes, staring at people staring at me naked. Daring them to think of me as anything but a form they were trying to capture with their pencils and charcoal. I was defiant. Hell-bent on surviving. On making it. But it was hard and it was lonely, and I had to dare myself every day to keep going.

I don't care if you hate me or love me, as long as I make you think.

Nothing cheers a girl up like SHOPPING!

Honestly, I don't read newspapers, magazines, whatever. They're just not part of my lexicon. I don't want to be manipulated, or manipulated about other people's work.

If you're going to be an artist, real life is your inspiration.

Sometimes you just have to go and make a mess of things to get people to pay attention.

Bad girl, drunk by six, kissing someone else's lips. Smoked to many cigarettes today, I'm not happy when I act this way.