My father probably - he had flashes of creativity - he used to do store windows for fruit stores that he worked in and stuff.

When I was a kid, my father didn't really have much hope for me. He thought I was a dreamer; he didn't think I would amount to anything. My mother also.

There is stuff I would have liked to have done. But there are no sour grapes.

I was in Peru and visited a building near Lima built by the Incas. It was low in height, with no windows at all, but all the way in the back there was air movement. And I couldn't figure out how they'd done it; it was incredible.

Each project, I suffer like I'm starting over again in life. There's a lot of healthy insecurity that fuels this stuff.

This neo-minimalism super cold stuff is weird to me. I need a place where I can come home and take my shoes off.