When I was a kid I looked for a look. You know, the look of the obsessed, in photographs and in sound. I’d play the same record 600 times. The artists I loved, I voided them of their sexual orientation, their names, birth date, they became simply, a heart beat. Mine. I spent every hour dreaming. Every hour searching. I’d talk to those photographs, dead people in photographs that made eye contact with me. Art is life and death, and it doesn’t matter which.