My work rarely comes up in secondary market, so it means that my prices stay low.
In New York, working at the foundry, I was making these little figures. I desperately would like to make big figures, but I just can’t do it; my hands don’t do it. We were talking about making bronze plinths, and then we made one, a square one. I wrote on it, then I put a little figure on top, and it just looked really good. It worked.
I’d like to think I inspire young people to be creative.
My mum has never wanted me to have children. She thinks I would be destroying my life, even now.
I never grew up.
It pleases me that people can be interactive.
There is nothing difficult about my work, and people get to hear it from me.
The idea that I’m going to have to sit down to write some fiction where I’m going to have to think of a plot would really scare me, because it would come out a mess.
With any story I write, I could actually write it from three or four different perspectives, which would end with a completely different moral at the end.
One thing about an artist, it doesn’t matter how much your work sells for in your life, it’s going to sell for ten times more than that after you’re dead, and that’s what you have to protect.
It’s happened time and time again, but the committee has always decided against it-the work was too conservative or didn’t fit within the budget; there are millions of different reasons.
I didn’t have an exhibition anywhere until I was 30. My first exhibition was at 30, and then for my first show in America, I’m 50. It’s kind of all right: I’m just a slow burner.
Women, at 50, are on a plateau with their careers, but later they ascend.
It’s my memory, and what happened between that moment 10 or 15 years ago and now, there’s a lot of gray area.
Maybe I don’t believe things myself, as well. Truth is such a transient thing.