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

In my low periods, I wondered what was the point of creating art. For whom? Are we animating God? Are we talking to ourselves? And what was the ultimate goal? To have one's work caged in art's great zoos - the Modern, the Met, the Louvre?

Those were the things on my mind [stay healthy, take care of my kids and reestablish a relationship with the people], not career, money, drugs, sex, alcohol or fun. Not that there's anything wrong with any of those things, but they aren't in the film [Dream of Life], because that wasn't my life at the time.

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

I wanted to see who this Yeats person was, and I said to my mother, 'I want a book by this person.' And she bought it for me, and a lot of it was over my head, but I had it.

The new artists coming through were very materialistic and Hollywood, not so engaged in communication.

I’m not much a role model in terms of hair care, though.