Art Is Like A Lover Whom You

Criticism On My Works Is Like This: You've Worked Hard All Of Your Life, You Went To Oxford, And You've Done This And That, And You're An Art Critic. Your Job Is To Unravel The "secret" Or Whatever, And You Come Across An Entity Like Me. It's Going To Piss You Off. Because There's No Great Secret, What You See Is What You Get, And Anyone Can Understand What I'm Doing. So, It's Almost Like I Make This Critic-person Redundant, Just By My Attitude, And They Resent Me For That.

When I Am Ill Or Upset He Jumps Up On To The Bed To Curl Up Close Beside Me. But If I Am In Bed With A Hangover He Will Have Nothing To Do With Me.

There Is Nothing Difficult About My Work, And People Get To Hear It From Me.

What's Really Good About The Word 'art' Is That 'art' Is A Word Like 'love,' Or 'god,' Or Whatever. It Transcends So Many Things.

Most People Don't Do Something Seminal. I've Done It Twice: With My Tent And My Bed. Picasso Did It With Cubism.