I was (...) determined to look the way I wanted to look, and I wanted to cut my hair. I wanted to look different because I was used to looking different. Because of my religious background I'd always been encouraged to look different.

I did it because I want to push my son to do the same. I also did it because I want to push the young players on my team to have a proper haircut, not the Rastafarian or the others they have.

Cutting my hair was probably the starting point of embracing myself. We try to control the natural things about ourselves because we've been told to be something else. Every part of my life now is authentic and it feels so refreshing.

Nobody had made the same full use of the properties of acids and metal in this way before. Having drown on the copper-plate and left areas of it bare, I laid it in the bath of acid and achieved effects that astonished even me, full of subtle nuances.

I was at a party. Some guy gave me some shit. He's like, "Here, man. Take this. It's fucking mushrooms." I took it, I forgot all about it, you know. Then a couple days later I found that shit in my pocket. I'm thinking, "why not?" 'Cuz I'm thinking it's like weed. Some background shit. I planned my whole day out like it was weed. "I'll chew this shit up, then I'll go to the barbershop, get my hair cut and then I'll see a movie." I chewed it up. So far, so good. Then I was in the barbershop, like an hour later. And it's funny, 'cuz I was just thinking to myself, like, "Ooh, this stuff sucks. Tastes like athlete's foot. I feel sick, but I'm not really high." Then I looked in the mirror. I saw the barber's reflection. Man, it looked like a big penis was cutting my hair.