You see, I was never stage-struck the way most girls were.
— Beatrice Wood
Well, I don't go out much socially. I don't enjoy going out.
Sex is energy.
I was in a convent for a year.
Here in America we're doing the most wonderful crafts.
But, you see, the theatre is not always art in America.
And then, of course, most potters, they go in for earth tones and subdued things, and I like color.
And I think maybe all women, if they just had a chance, would be romantic and believe in love and not sex. And men believe in sex and not love.
My life is full of mistakes. They're like pebbles that make a good road.
You know, acting is very fascinating. But being an actress is not, because you become so concentrated on yourself.
There's so much more to life than that, though I think that acting is fascinating because you can forget your own sorrow as you act and become somebody else.
Over and over I'm on the point of giving it up.
I happen to believe that there is an afterlife.
First of all, I'd like to say here the fact that I'm not naturally a craftsman has made me work very hard.
But you can't realize, you can't know what another person goes through.
And then a great thing in my life was going to India.
And I have exposed myself to art so that my work has something beyond just the usual potter.
You know, God, the power that makes life, whatever it is, had just to make two things, masculine and feminine, for all this mischief. And made them so there is this entirely different point of view about love and sex.
Yes, because when you're in love, you are shy.
The second time I was there I met Marcel Duchamp, and we immediately fell for each other. Which doesn't mean a thing because I think anybody who met Marcel fell for him.
I'm not too interested in books about India.
I don't like to sell my finest pieces.
Certainly I was relatively a refined person. No way a tramp.
But I was very, very unhappy because my mother was very charming and generous, but to me, very dominating.
And several galleries - two had asked me and I said no, because I didn't want to leave things on consignment.
A rich poet from Harvard has no sense in his mind, except the aesthetic.
