I’d never had people drive me around, and then all of a sudden, if a car didn’t come, I’d say, “Where’s my car?”
Since childhood, it was my dream to go where all the poets and artists had been. Rimbaud, Artaud, Brancusi, Camus, Picasso, Bresson, Goddard, Jeanne Moreau, Juliette Greco, everybody – Paris for me was a Mecca.
Since I was a child, I hated having to deal with my hair. I hated having to change my clothes. As a kid, I had a sailor shirt and the same old corduroy pants, and that’s what I wanted to wear everyday.
Why do people want to know exactly who I am? Am I a poet? Am I this or that? I’ve always made people wary. First they called me a rock poet. Then I was a poet that dabbled in rock. Then I was a rock person who dabbled in art.
When I was young, I knew William Burroughs really well. And William’s secret desire, which he never quite did, was to write a straightforward detective novel.
I wasn’t writing, I wasn’t drawing, and personality-wise, I was just completely arrogant. I’m not trying to be overly apologetic for my behavior – I wasn’t evil. The lifestyle I had was one that lent itself to becoming more and more self-involved.
When I stopped performing for 16 years and lived in Michigan and was married and raising my children, I wrote about four or five books. I haven’t published them.
What I wanted to do in rock ’n roll was merge poetry with sonic scapes, and the two people who had contributed so much to that were Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison.
Well, I’m not one of those people who needs the limelight. If I’m performing, that’s what I’m doing. If I’m not, I don’t long for it. I don’t need the approval of an audience, or applause.
I want to keep my life as unfettered as possible. So maybe I’ll just pretend to get rare books from my catalogue, and not really get them.
Usually when I go to a place for the first time, unless there’s something historical or spectacular that nature has to offer, the first thing I like to do is see what’s on the minds of the people.
Sometimes you’re doing really well, then, after three or four years, everything inexplicably crashes like a house of cards and you have to rebuild it. It’s not like you get to a point where you’re all right for the rest of your life.
Somehow I started introducing writing into my drawings, and after a time, the language took over and I started getting very involved with the handwriting and then the look of the handwriting.
My mother had no end of tragedy in her life. She would make herself get up and take a deep breath and go out and do laundry. Hang up sheets.
One day we’ll go in together, and the work will be ours.
Paths that cross will cross again.
My public life was so demanding that I wasn’t doing the things that I deemed the most important.
I just like living in certain atmospheres. Or I just like people as they are.
Obviously, I’m not homeless. I’m not an old alcoholic. I’m not jumping trains. I just like to live in a certain way.
My father was always talking about God, and I idolized my father, so I’d spend hours trying to have mental telepathy with God.