The Endless Chatter Of This Journey Had

There Is A Word In Old English Which Belongs Wholly To That Civilization - "dustsceawung," Meaning Contemplation Of Dust. It Is A True Image Of The Anglo-saxon Mind, Or At Least An Echo Of That Consciousness Which Considered Transcience And Loss To Be Part Of The Human Estate; It Was A World In Which Life Was Uncertain And The Principal Diety Was Fate Or Destiny Or "wyrd."

There Are Two Types Of People, You See. One Type Keep Their Heads Straight, And Look Around As They Walk. The Others Look Up - At The Tops Of Houses, At The Eaves And The Lintels And The Roofs, Which Can Tell You When They Were Built - And I've Always Done That.

It's Only Recently That We've Discovered That The Artist's Inner Self Is Somehow More Important Than The Public World. I'm Happier To Create Exterior Pieces For The World Rather Than To Express Something I Deeply Feel Or Wish To Say.

I Can Remember Picking Up Weighty Tomes On The History Of Science And The History Of Philosophy And Reading Those When I Was Small.

I Don't In Any Sense Think Of Myself As A Celebrity, Which Of Course I'm Not.