When I was an undergrad studying art, we thought that being a painter meant being asked for your opinions while sitting in a café in paint-smeared clothes. When I was a grad student we thought that being a painter meant being asked for your opinions in Vanity Fair, wearing Versace. But I’ll tell you it really means spending the day in your underwear listening to the Psychedelic Furs, and being asked to take the trash out once in while.

Oh, sometimes making stuff, too:

smooch