I'm Totally Monogamous When I'm In A

Have You Ever Longed For Someone So Much, So Deeply That You Thought You Would Die? That Your Heart Would Just Stop Beating? I Am Longing Now, But For Whom I Don't Know. My Whole Body Craves To Be Held. I Am Desperate To Love And Be Loved. I Want My Mind To Float Into Another's. I Want To Be Set Free From Despair By The Love I Feel For Another. I Want To Be Physically Part Of Someone Else. I Want To Be Joined. I Want To Be Open And Free To Explore Every Part Of Them, As Though I Were Exploring Myself.

Someone Else Who Liked What I Did Might Turn Around And Say, "she's Reworking And Rethinking Everything. She Could Just Be Making Blankets Now, And Be A Lot Wealthier." I'm Actually Making It Difficult For Myself. I Wouldn't Call It Re-branding. If I Get Bored With My Work, Then Other People Will - It's That Simple. And I'm Not Gonna Get Bored With What I'm Doing. I'll Struggle And Fight And Do New Things To Excite Myself - And Do It In My Own Sweet Way.

I Had To Come To Terms With My Failure As An Artist... I Had To Find A Way For Myself.

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.

There Is No Comparison Between Him And Me; He Developed A Whole New Way Of Making Art And He's Clearly In A League Of His Own. It Would Be Like Making Comparisons With Warhol.