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I remember going through school and doing art, which was the only thing that I actually found fulfilling, and I couldn't really figure out why. Then I got into college and started messing around with photography, and I realised that it was about getting the images that were in my head out in a way that didn't have to be spelt correctly.

When I went to art school, I was just having fun. I realised that was the last chance I had, and then I would have to get a job.

I was at a pretty rough school, and the only thing I was good at was art.

I love art and I think I was destined to end up in some aspect of the arts.

My failure, during the first five or six years of my art training, to get set in the right direction, and the disappointment which it caused me, drove me the more persistently into writing as an alternative.

I hated school so bad. I only liked art class during high school. I was always smart.

All I could do at school was paint and draw and that was the only time I ever passed any exam. It was the only thing I ever got right at school.

I went to school to study literature and writing, even though I didn't end up really doing that in the end.

School was hard for me. If there had been a school for the creative arts, I might have thrived, but... I needed that creative outlet so much. Also, I'm just bad with numbers.

I left school at 15 feeling fairly useless and not really up to scratch in my education. And I still suffer sometimes from that lack of education.