GD:
What moments in life have you experienced that became material for your paintings and your music. I would guess, and maybe wrongly so, that there is something at least a little tweaked about your history, your past, your life, that inspires such powerful stuff.

GJ:
When I was ten I was in the hospital because I had become extremely constipated.  It's a bit of a traumatic and ridiculous experience when your ten, I suppose. I think it gave me a sense of the futility of the body, a sense of what's in the body, the rot in the body, humiliation, etc etc

GD:
Fuck!!  You must have been terrified about what the rest of life would have in store for you.  Its amazing these traumatic childhood  experiences stay with us forever and are such a source for igniting creativity.  As a child my complete household was hygienically challenged and that lingering nightmare seems to creep its way into everything I make.
Is that why your paintings have such a meaty, fleshy feel to them?  I noticed that about your work right away.  Your paintings look like they've been turned inside out, and you're viewing what everything looks like on the inside.



GJ:
I knew a kid named Chucky Odd (his real name!) whose house was also "hygienically challenged". It was fascinating; every surface in the living room was covered in dirty dishes with half-eaten moldy food. The surfaces that weren't covered in garbage had a tacky oily feel to them. The outside of the house was covered in thick soot. I grew up in a somewhat messy house, no rotten food fermenting on the top of the TV, just a lot of clutter.  It's definitely a theme in my paintings; piles, people's accumulated crap, people's mess. My studio is fucking wreck, piles everywhere, a big mess.  But I couldn't work any other way. I can't go from point A to B.  It has to all be in a big ball of shit that I pick out of, like my writing, jumbling up the words and making some sort of order out of chaos.