It's coexistence or no existence.
I never really consider myself as a great artist. I just always like to draw.
One person's craziness is another person's reality.
Live people ignore the strange and unusual. I myself, am strange and unusual.
Anybody with artistic ambitions is always trying to reconnect with the way they saw things as a child.
Visions are worth fighting for. Why spend your life making someone else's dreams?
For me, fantasy has always been a means of exploring reality: it explores the fact that your internal life, your dreams and the weird images and the things that come to you are things that are actually important tools for dealing with real issues.
Maybe the only thing each of us can see is our own shadow. Carl Jung called this his shadow work. He said we never see others. Instead we see only aspects of ourselves that fall over them. Shadows. Projections. Our associations. The same way old painters would sit in a tiny dark room and trace the image of what stood outside a tiny window, in the bright sunlight. The camera obscura. Not the exact image, but everything reversed or upside down.
There's a taste in the air, sweet and vaguely antiseptic, that reminds him of his teenage years in these streets, and of a general state of longing, a hunger for life to begin that from this distance seems like happiness.
The physical world is meaningless tonight And there is no other.
Next year I hope to get a stalker or two because I don't believe you've arrived until you get a stalker.