“I remember growing up, saying you’re an artist it sounds pretentious but now it’s one of the only dignified things that you can call yourself.”

What doesn’t kill you is gonna leave a scar.

Your beautiful don’t let anyone tell you different

Paintings are seldom guilty and often framed for crimes they did not commit. Some cover holes-holes in walls, holes in lives. Some make holes-in wallets, holes in hearts in negative space.

Relationships never break cleanly. Like a valuable vase, they are smashed and then glued back together, smashed and glued, smashed and glued until the pieces just don’t fit together anymore.

I’m a confession that is waiting to be heard

Part of me is afraid to get close to people because I’m afraid that they’re going to leave.

People tend to associate anyone who looks and behaves differently with illegal or immoral activity.

I’ve said a million times that if more stupid people killed themselves over stupid songs, there would be less stupid people in the world.

I’ve always believed that a person is smart. It’s people that are stupid.

When you’re taught to love everyone, to love your enemies, what value does that put on love?

My pain’s not ashamed to repeat itself

People are too lazy and too stupid to think for themselves that we’ve got sitcoms with canned laughter that let’s you know when to laugh if you’re to stupid to know when the joke is.

When all of your wishes are granted, many of your dreams will be destroyed.

Music is the strongest form of magic.

The death of one is a tragedy, but death of a million is just a statistic.

But what’s real? You can’t find the truth, you just pick the lie you like the best.

Poets, not otherwise than philosophers, painters, sculptors, and musicians, are, in one sense, the creators, and, in another, the creations, of their age.

My ideas come when I least expect it, so I’ve always got to have a studio nearby or close by somewhere.

I love jotting down ideas for my blog, so I doodle or take notes on all kinds of stuff that inspires me: the people I meet, boutiques I visit, a florist that just gave me a great idea for an interior-design project, things like that.

The symbol of all art is the Prism. The goal is unrealism. The method is destructive. To break up the white light of objective realism, into the secret glories which it contains.

We live in a world that is like art painted by the light in so many colors.

However much you are read in theory, if thou hast no practice thou art ignorant.

I’m gonna write from personal experience, from emotion, from whatever the hell I’m feeling that day.

Indulging in the pleasures of creation.