“We are obliged to steal pieces of language, both visual and textual.”

Photography has saturated us as spectators from its inception amidst a mingling of laboratorial pursuits and magic acts to its current status as propagator of convention, cultural commodity, and global hobby.

What makes the production of my work so expensive? The whole installation thing – the construction, the objects, the technology. It really adds up.

I think people have to set up little battles. They have to demonize people whom they disagree with or feel threatened by. But it’s the ideological framing of the debate that scares me.

Warhol’s images made sense to me, although I knew nothing at the time of his background in commercial art. To be honest, I didn’t think about him a hell of a lot.

I’ve always thought that it’s good to watch the news to find out what everybody else is looking at and believing, if only because that’s how consensus is constructed.

Listen: our culture is saturated with irony whether we know it or not.

You make history when you do business.

It entered the visual vocabulary of photographers, painters and sculptors and focused on what pictures and words look like and what they can mean.

Direct address has been a consistent tactic in my work, regardless of the medium that I’m working in.

Doubt tempers belief with sanity.

I think what I’m trying to do is create moments of recognition. To try to detonate some kind of feeling or understanding of lived experience.

You know, one of the only times I ever wrote about art was the obituary of Warhol that I did for the Village Voice.

As with the Princess Di crash, which sent the media on the most insane feeding frenzy. From the moment of the crash, the pornography of sentiment never let up.

All violence is the illustration of a pathetic stereotype.

Seeing is no longer believing. The very notion of truth has been put into crisis. In a world bloated with images, we are finally learning that photographs do indeed lie.

Things change and work changes. Right now I like the idea of enveloping a space and getting messages across that connect to the world in ways that seem familiar but are different.

I knew that I would speak in the language of the vanquished No more durable than old customs, family rituals, Christmas tinsel, and once a year the hilarity of carols.

One can not understand language because language cannot understand itself; does not want to understand.

Its neither politics or religion. Music is the universal love language.

I am only beautiful when my legs are open and I have forgotten my mother tongue to make room for yours.

Language is the only homeland.

My love language is saying no and having them listen to me.

Music is all about transporting people, speaking a language which languages fail to express.

There’s a melody in everything. And once you find the melody, then you connect immediately with the heart. Because sometimes English or Spanish, Swahili or any language gets in the way. But nothing penetrates the heart faster than the melody.