They Used To Laugh At Me When

Fibers In A Variety Of Colors Protrude Out Of My Skin Like Mushrooms After A Rainstorm. They Cannot Be Forensically Identified As Animal, Vegetable Or Mineral.

Augustine, Anne Sexton And Sylvia Plath Are Confessional Writers And All Three Make Me Sick. I Have Nothing In Common With Them.

With A Painting, You Don't Have To Go Back And Paint It Again.

I See Bodies As Individual Things.

I Don't Know How To Sell Out. If I Tried To Sell Out I Don't Think I Could.