What's Beautiful About Art Is That It

The Book Is Openly A Kind Of Spiritual Autobiography, But The Trick Is That On Any Other Level It's A Kind Of Insane Collage Of Fragments Of Memory.

I'm A Firm Believer That There Are No Rules In Art. Every Trajectory Is Different.

It Wasn't For Children, Seventh Grade. You Could Read The Stress Of Even Entering The Building In The Postures Of The Teachers, The Security Guards. Nobody Could Relax In Such A Racial And Hormonal Disaster Area.

The Past Is Still Visible. The Buildings Haven't Changed, The Layout Of The Streets Hasn't Changed. So Memory Is Very Available To Me As I Walk Around.

When The Civil Rights Battle Was Won, All The Jews And Hippies And Artists Were Middle Class White People And All The Blacks Were Still Poor. Materially, Not Much Changed.