I Feel Physically Ill If I Don't

There Should Be Something Revelatory About Art. It Should Be Totally Creative And Open Doors For New Thoughts And Experiences.

Maybe I Don't Believe Things Myself, As Well. Truth Is Such A Transient Thing...

I'm Not Trying To Find Another Thing That's Wrong With Me, But I'm Such A Nice Person, And I Have A Couple Of Drinks And I'm Really Good Fun And Then I'm Really Not Fun

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.

People Don't Remember. Revenge Is Sweet.