My friend Elisse bought a portrait of Henry Miller from me. I guess Henry was lonely, because Elisse decided she needed a portrait of Anais Nin. Note that she asked for Anais (Henry's lover) not June Miller (Henry's wife).

Anais Nin, as far as I can tell, is famous for having sex with famous people, and then writing about it. That and her eyebrows, which she had burnt on to her forehead with a laser beam. Evidently her journals are hot stuff. As of this date (April 2nd, 2005) I have yet to read them.

I hate painting women. Why? Because 90% of all photographs of women are airbrushed, or shot through a lens dripping with vaseline. They have no lines -- most women are terrified of having lines on their faces. All those creams and make-ups and facials are specifically designed to remove the most important part of my paintings.

But after struggling with Anais for weeks -- including the time I spent avoiding her because she was pissing me off -- I finally managed to get something I can live with. In fact, now I kind of like it.

Do you want to torture me with female faces? Send me an e-mail and task me.