There are so many great 19th-century photographers, and it's really my favorite period, but the amateurs did such beautiful work.

My mother and father had so many ups and downs and stayed with each other and helped each other. My mother took in ironing and she was a waitress. My father was working in the factory and he did people's tax returns.

People say hello to me. I mean, sometimes the sanitation truck goes by and says, hey Patti.

I was raised in rural south Jersey, and there was no culture there. There was a small library, and that was it. There was nothing else.

Steven's [Sebring] presence was not threatening; he told me that if I never wanted the footage to be seen by anyone, he would give it to me. So I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, and what I gained was his supportive energy and the supportive energy of his wife, who was sometimes the one schlepping the equipment or doing the sound.

I hated the makeup. I hated all that pancake makeup. I didn't really like dressing for parts.

The film [Dream of Life], in the end, is life-affirming, and I think it's always useful for people to be reminded that no matter how rough things get, no matter what kind of twists and turns our lives can take, we can keep going, we can create something new.