I imagined myself as Frida to Diego, both muse and maker. I dreamed of meeting an artist to love and support and work with side by side.

I was quite an insomniac. I rarely slept as a child. Having God to talk to at night was nice.

I think its very important to not be afraid to experience joy in the middle of sorrow.

I wasn't thinking so much of music. I wasnt thinking so much of perfection or stardom or any of that stuff.

I had gone to Paris to immerse myself in painting and I came back wholly involved in words and rhythms.

I think some of that hopelessness of my generation got passed on to later generations - the sense of uselessness.

Angel looks down at him and says, “Oh, pretty boy, Can't you show me nothing but surrender?