RIC J: Why did you paint the Guernica?

P: Guernica is the colour of my nightmares. An obsession, a specter, my total fear.

RIC J: Who is the ugliest person you slept with?

P: My shadow.

RIC J: Which is the woman you wish you’d painted?

P: My granddaughter, Diana, but I didn’t know her.

RIC J: What is the one dream of yours that remained unfulfilled?

P: I dream that I am a safe, triple locked, which contains a painting with unknown symbols, where red is made with my blood, drawn without a brush with the tips of my fingers. Then a poet opens the safe, and then …

RIC J: Your thoughts on death?

P: I am stronger than her. Me dead, I am more than alive.

RIC J: How do you like to cook your chicken?

P: In profile, with both eyes to the side.

RIC J: What is the size of your penis?

P: The size of your mouth.

RIC J: Which monster do you wish you were? From which mythology?

P: Minotaur. Wild like me. Bestial, fiery, virile, impetuous, treacherous, liar, sanguine and bloodthirsty.

RIC J: Why didn’t you paint the Harappa and Mohenjodaro?

P: It’s me, but my art was not yet complete. Sigiriya, it’s me too. Ajanta and Elephanta caves, it’s me again. I’m everywhere. I am the ultimate artist. The Great Painter. The only architect of art.

RIC J: Which is the most erotic mask according to you?

P: Medusa: free and sexual, her tentacles like so many obscene extensions. A beauty that transcends monstrosity. The petrification of orgasm.

RIC J: Your favourite gin cocktail?

P: A dose of gin, and nine tears from you.

RIC J: What do you think about Caravaggio?

P: This bastard does not come close to my ankle. Neither by his life, nor by his art. Soft ball.

RIC J: What are your favourite types of lemons?

P: The ones I press on each of your breasts.

RIC J: In the memory of a Sufi patient, please define life in two words.

P: Paint you.