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You get to a point where the kind of beautiful chaos can't really fuel your creative existence any longer because it's not stable, however amazing and exciting it may be.

The temptation to quit and start over infects every creative process I've ever been in. Frustration and boredom always fuel this self-doubt.

We're all addicted to sort of the habits of our lives. And we get stuck, and sometimes we'll get stuck because we had traumas that we don't want to remember.

I've always enjoyed things a little more chaotic than most people would prefer. I feel that I run well in chaos.

I'm constantly having to be vigilant with a depressive tendency, an addictive tendency.

Work is like a drug. I'm jonesing for more. It's gotten more addictive than I had realized. I get anxious when I have nothing to do now.

I call my life a beautiful mess and organised chaos. It's just always been like that. My entire life things have been attracted to me and vice versa that turn into chaotic nightmares or I create the chaos myself.

If you're constantly frightened of being unhappy, how bloody exhausting must that be?

Chaos in the world brings uneasiness, but it also allows the opportunity for creativity and growth.