The Head Has Its Confines. The Head’s

As For Aliki - If You Were To Stand In The Middle Of Rome And Say The Name Sophia Loren, Or Paris And Say The Name Catherine Deneuve Or Brigitte Bardot, Or L.a. And The Name Marilyn Monroe, It's Like Standing In Athens, Or Anywhere In Wide-flung Greece, And Saying Aliki Vougiouklaki. A Huge Star - And So Little Known Elsewhere In The World.

Every Great Narrative Is At Least Two Narratives, If Not More - The Thing That Is On The Surface And Then The Things Underneath Which Are Invisible.

I Don't Want A Tombstone. You Could Carve On It 'she Never Actually Wanted A Tombstone.'

All We Are Is Eyes Looking For The Unbroken Or The Edges Where The Broken Bits Might Fit Each Other.

It's About The Connecting Force From Form To Form. It's The Toe Bone Connecting To The Shoulder Bone. It's The Bacterial Kick Of Life Force, Something Growing Out Of Nothing, Forming Itself Out Of Something Else. Form Never Stops. And Form Is Always Environmental.