The issue of innovation never interested me personally, since I believe it may lead to a place where people don't paint anymore.

God has given me the bread of adversity and the water of trouble.

I would sooner read five lines of the Bible than hear five masses in the "Church".

Most days I only go out to the post office or to get some food. Otherwise I work on my art or music. I check out the news, and generally spend a lot of time on Tumblr or Facebook or whatever.

I will sacrifice my comfort, my convenience, my economic position in order to stand in protest, but not impose that on everyone else.

My work as a painter has always been tied to Modernism. I read everything I could find related to art, from Paul Cézanne through the 1950s.

My favorite time is late at night. I seem to wake up and want to work after 10pm, in my bubble of night.

I'm a New Yorker. I like the big streets and the big buildings. It's a great place to walk.

I don't like sleeping in a different place every night, but I do like meeting new people.

Music and art are two very different activities for me. However, the use of imagery links them, and invention is important for both.

It's hard to say what exactly I like about New York. It's so vast. It seems to go on and on, but that's an illusion. Still, it's fun to be here, especially since I don't drive.

Self-struggle is spiritual.

Enjoy every moment to the fullest, but don't forget to plan for a future that's better than where you currently stand. Life is a journey of continuous progress.

It is better to learn late than never.

Let us beware of common folk, of common sense, of sentiment, of inspiration, and of the obvious.

Part of being a winner is knowing when enough is enough. Sometimes you have to give up the fight and walk away, and move on to something that's more productive.

My father read 'The New York Times,' my mother did secretarial work, we had a dog, we had a garden, I had a brother.

I am one of the world's dreadful technophobes. I was on the internet, but it's broken down and I've unplugged it.

Some men tend to cling to old intellectual excitements, just as some belles, when they are old ladies, still cling to the fashions and coiffures of their exciting youth.

Into the paradise of euphony, the good poet must introduce hell. Broken paradises are the only kind worth reading.

At least once a month, do something for someone who will never know who did them the friendly favor.