Fame lost its appeal for me when I went into a public restroom and an autograph seeker handed me a pen and paper under the stall door.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I don't ever want to be famous. I never want to live that life. I genuinely hate the fact that I would be stopped for a picture or an autograph all the time.
I think fame became exciting for me in the late '90s because I could actually use it as a means to an end. I could actually have it help me serve my vocationfulness.
I had no preconceived idea what fame would be like, because I never thought I would be famous. I just wanted to do my work. Hell, I just wanted to pay my rent on time.
Fame was never something I was seeking in my artistic journey. It's to be used as a tool for an artist to break open doors and keep creating. That's how I enjoyed fame in '74; it was not just for the emptiness of being famous.
Fame is being asked to sign your autograph on the back of a cigarette packet.
Fame is like a shaved pig with a greased tail, and it is only after it has slipped through the hands of some thousands, that some fellow, by mere chance, holds on to it!
I had all the fame anyone could want, and I ran away from it.
One time I went into a restroom and a girl followed me in. I signed an autograph for her in the sink. It was pretty funny because she was in a guy's restroom and she wasn't embarrassed at all.
Fame is a curse... it was the worst phase of my life, which I thank God I'll never have to go through again.
I never went after fame. It fell into my lap.