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.