It Pleases Me That People Can Be

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

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

My Influences Were From Europe From Between 1900 And 1945. My Favorite Artists Were Egon Schiele Or Edvard Munch. I Wasn't Interested In Contemporary Art At All.

I Have Hardly Any Friends Who Aren't Gay

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.