[to Be An Artist,] This Desire To

What I Do Is Sometimes - At Least In Germany - Met With Wounding Campaigns. I Always Face The Question: Should I Grow Myself A Thick Skin And Ignore It, Or Should I Let Myself Be Wounded? I've Decided To Be Wounded, Since, If I Grew A Thick Skin, There Are Other Things I Wouldn't Feel Any More.

In Statistics, What Disappears Behind Rows Of Numbers Is Death.

I Catch Myself Judging Myself As That 13-year-old Boy, Who, Of Course, Rightfully Points Out That He Is Only A Child. And My Membership - Well, I Was Drafted Into The Waffen-ss And Didn't Exactly Volunteer, Which Was Just As Idiotic. I Wanted To Be On The Submarines And Then Ended Up With The Waffen-ss.

And When The Sun Goes Down And The Mood Comes Upon Me, I'll Watch The Play Of The Colors On The Water, Yield To The Fleetly Dissolving Images, And Turn Into Pure Feeling, All Soft And Nice.

I Have Found That Words That Are Loaded With Pathos And Create A Seductive Euphoria Are Apt To Promote Nonsense.