Self-portrait? Ugly isn't it? Okay, okay, it's not that bad. It was a commission - a manic commission. And it's not really a self-portrait, but given the length of the hair, the shape of the face and the style of the dress, popular evaluation insists it looks like me - certainly not the pride of my art poverty. I just like little girls in gardens.

It reminds me of the late seventies in those heavenly slums. I picked dandelions for the boy five houses over and slipped them through the garden fence when he wasn't allowed out to play. He fell off the big kid slide and broke both of his legs. We were good kids.