I Would Be Humiliated If

There Is So Much In The World To Hate, Why Hate Yourself?

I Decided To Lock Myself In. A Forced Segregation. Sabbatical. A Retreat Into Myself. My Selves. Play Hide And Go Seek In The Looking-glass. The Mirror Angled At The Foot Of My Bed. Twisted Reflections Bouncing Off Into Infinity. Obsessed With My Image, The Myriad Of Distored Figurines Who Danced In Front Of Me In Rapid Succession, Every Feature Exaggerated, Every Slight Imperfection A New Delicacy.

My Job Is To Confront Apathy And Confront All The Forces That Tend To Batter Each Of Us Down With All Kind Of Oppression, Even Self-oppression. I Consider That The Main Job Of The Art That I Do- To Rattle The Cage, Wake People Up, Wake Myself Up, Confront All That Would Conspire To Keep Us Down.

Just Because My Bank Account Hasn't Swelled Astronomically I Don't Consider Myself Any Less Of A Success.

I Would Be Humiliated If I Found Out That Anything I Did Actually Became A Commercial Success.