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I go into the make-up chair one hour before my call. I get make up, hair, and costume all done up and then I sometimes have a bit of breakfast. We start filming, and go until around lunchtime. I am not used in every shot so when I have breaks I go in my room and do schoolwork. After lunch we go back work, I go on and off set a normal day. When we wrap for the day I go home and relax or go swimming or maybe to the movies.
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Nicksplat: "Exclusive Interview with Julianna Rose Mauriello" (20 March 2006)

 

Julianna Rose Mauriello

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Our society, it turns out, can use modern art. A restaurant, today, will order a mural by Míro in as easy and matter-of-fact a spirit as, twenty-five years ago, it would have ordered one by Maxfield Parrish. The president of a paint factory goes home, sits down by his fireplace—it looks like a chromium aquarium set into the wall by a wall-safe company that has branched out into interior decorating, but there is a log burning in it, he calls it a firelace, let’s call it a fireplace too—the president sits down, folds his hands on his stomach, and stares at two paintings by Jackson Pollock that he has hung on the wall opposite him. He feels at home with them; in fact, as he looks at them he not only feels at home, he feels as if he were back at the paint factory. And his children—if he has any—his children cry for Calder. He uses thoroughly advanced, wholly non-representational artists to design murals, posters, institutional advertisements: if we have the patience (or are given the opportuity) to wait until the West has declined a little longer, we shall all see the advertisements of Merrill Lynch, Pierce, Fenner, and Smith illustrated by Jean Dubuffet.
This president’s minor executives may not be willing to hang a Kandinsky in the house, but they will wear one, if you make it into a sport shirt or a pair of swimming-trunks; and if you make it into a sofa, they will lie on it. They and their wives and children will sit on a porcupine, if you first exhibit it at the Museum of Modern Art and say that it is a chair. In fact, there is nothing, nothing in the whole world that someone won’t buy and sit in if you tell him it is a chair: the great new art form of our age, the one that will take anything we put in it, is the chair. If Hieronymus Bosch, if Christian Morgenstern, if the Marquis de Sade were living at this hour, what chairs they would be designing!

 

Randall Jarrell

 

The comics medium is a very specialized area of the Arts, home to many rare and talented blooms and flowering imaginations and it breaks my heart to see so many of our best and brightest bowing down to the same market pressures which drive lowest-common-denominator blockbuster movies and television cop shows. Let's see if we can call time on this trend by demanding and creating big, wild comics which stretch our imaginations. Let's make living breathing, sprawling adventures filled with mind-blowing images of things unseen on Earth. Let's make artefacts that are not faux-games or movies but something other, something so rare and strange it might as well be a window into another universe because that's what it is. (2004)

 

Grant Morrison

 

I drive from home to my office, a small apartment on the river in the center of Dublin. I write there from 9 a.m. to lunchtime, I take a simple lunch—bread, cheese, nice cup of tea—work until 6 p.m., then home for dinner. Viewed from outside my head it is a singularly dull and uneventful day, but inside my head … aaah.

 

John Banville

 

It's such a weird thing, because I don't take it for granted, but I also don't take the monetary aspects of it too seriously. I'll still turn things down, then go, "What am I turning down? This is ridiculous!" I'll make jokes about all the money that's thrown around, but at the same time be thinking, Oh my God, what if I never work again? I can't go back to being a waitress. Twenty things like that go through your head each time. But then sometimes you just want to open up a bed-and-breakfast in some great town. Then, if you have to go back and be a waitress, you can run the bed-and-breakfast.

 

Sandra Bullock

 

[when his wife sees that he has given the kids cake for breakfast] I've always heard about people having a conniption, but I've never seen one. You don't want to see 'em. My wife's face... SPLIT! The skin and hair split and came off of her face so that there was nothing except the SKULL! And orange light came out of her hair and it lit all around! And fire SHOT from her eye sockets and began to burn my stomach! And she said, "WHERE DID THEY GET CHOCOLATE CAKE FROM?" And I said, "They asked for it!" And the children who had been singing praises to me... LIED on me and said, "Uh-uh! We asked for eggs and milk... AND DAD MADE US EAT THIS!!" And my wife sent me... to my room! Which is where I wanted to go in the first place. So you see? We men are dumb, but we are not so dumb. It takes great brain power and work to avoid working.

 

Bill Cosby