Being blond is definitely a different state of mind. I can’t really put my finger on it, but the artifice of being blond has some incredible sort of sexual connotation.
To be brave is to love someone unconditionally, without expecting anything in return. To just give. That takes courage, because we don't want to fall on our faces or leave ourselves open to hurt.
I stand for freedom of expression, doing what you believe in, and going after your dreams.
Express yourself, don’t repress yourself.
The essence of femininity is to absolutely love being a woman.
I think love resides in all of the songs, even when they are overtly sexual.
I love the art form, but working in film can be a disheartening experience.
I’ve been practicing yoga very seriously for a little over a year and I believe that helped my voice and affected my singing.
I’m sure other people have a very strange view of my lifestyle.
When you make a movie, it’s just a huge bureaucracy because movies cost so much money. Millions of people get involved, and pretty soon the creative idea gets tramped on and watered down or filtered through a huge system.
Nowadays New-York is not the exciting place it used to be. It still has great energy; I still put my finger in the socket. But it doesn’t feel alive, cracking with that synergy between the art world and music world and fashion world that was happening in the 80s. A lot of people died.
Who is my role model and how long can I keep this going? I just move around and do different things and come back to music, try making films and come back to music, write children’s books and come back to music.
Marriage? I don’t know what I really think about marriage. I’m a bit confused on that issue.
People love pitting strong females against each other.
Nothing stops an organization faster than people who believe that the way you worked yesterday is the best way to work tomorrow.
I’m anal retentive. I’m a workaholic. I have insomnia. And I’m a control freak. That’s why I’m not married. Who could stand me?
At least my cage is filled with light.
There is something comforting about being tied up. Like when you were a baby and your mother strapped you in the car seat. She wanted you to be safe. It was an act of love.
We tear ourselves inside out for something the world may love, then base our worth on that.
We sit restless, on a fickle edge always looking for something new yet wary of anything different.
This is who I am like it or not.