I don’t very often think I’ve done a good job. I don’t like the majority of what I do. I shouldn’t say I don’t like it, but I’m not satisfied with almost everything that I do.
Time it was And what a time it was, it was A time of innocence A time of confidences Long ago it must be I have a photograph Preserve your memories They’re all that’s left you.
I suppose an artist takes the elements of his life and rearranges them and then has them perceived by others as though they were the elements of their lives.
I don’t know what I’m going to write when I begin to write. It feels like you are walking down a path, but you can’t see around the bend and you don’t know where you are going to go, which is fun.
