Which sounds suspiciously familiar to Richard Feynman’s “Ode on a flower“, but anyway.

She’s very direct.

If she sees something she doesn’t like, it “shouldn’t be on the planet”.

If you call her on the cellphone and the call’s breaking up, she doesn’t say that.

She says “You’re just burps and farts”

This is her story of “anal living”.

One of her collectors is married to a man who likes things “just so”.

They’ve moved into a McMansion in a new subdivision.

She’s invited round to dinner and doesn’t see a lot of her work on the walls, so she (discreetly) asks her hostess where the other pieces are.

“Oh, HE doesn’t think they GO…”

HE, on the other hand, is inordinately proud of his size-of-a-small-car stainless steel gas barbecue.

Sparklingly new looking.

“Wow. Did you just buy it?” asks the artist.

“Oh no, but you have to keep it CLEAN”

Continues.

“We’ve used it all summer. I just HATE food smells in the house”

“Do you poo outside then, too” asks the artist.