I'm still learning who I am. One minute I have black hair, the next it's red. One day I'm wearing Converse sneakers, and the next I'm in the hippie look.
I went to high schools in four different countries. The gift is that you can constantly reinvent yourself. I still feel that freedom. One day, I'll wear a dress I got in India; the next, Converse sneakers and jeans.
You might see someone with dreadlocks and label them a hippie in your head, but that doesn't mean they think of themselves that way. A lot of people look at me and see I have a beard and shaggy hair, and think I'm a hippie. I'm not a hippie, and I'm not not a hippie. I don't know what the f**k I am.
One day, I'll be listening to a bunch of Ray Charles, the next day it's nothing but Red Hot Chili Peppers. The next day it might be Tupac all day.
If I tell a joke on stage and the crowd laughs for a minute, I stand there for a minute and enjoy them laughing before I go on to the next joke. On TV, if I stand there for a minute while they laugh, I look like an idiot who can't remember the next joke.
I am a bit of a fundamentalist when it comes to black women's hair. Hair is hair - yet also about larger questions: self-acceptance, insecurity and what the world tells you is beautiful. For many black women, the idea of wearing their hair naturally is unbearable.
I bought a Christmas tree for twenty dollars. When I came home the next day, my wife was wearing it in her hair.
One minute you're bleeding. The next minute you're hemorrhaging. The next minute you're painting the Mona Lisa.
One minute we can be in a small club, the next minute we can be in a coliseum, and the next minute we can be in a small auditorium. It varies, depending on the promoter, the budget, and the travelling distance.
In the late 60's to the early 70's, I was caught between the hippie and the skinhead movement. I had my hair cut so I didn't look like a straight at a hippie event, and I didn't look like a hippie at a skinhead event. It was a good haircut.
The passion for sneakers has been there since day one, but I never held onto them. I never shrunkwrap them. It's always been about getting it, buying it, wearing it, showing it and moving on to the next one.
The very nature of acting is one minute you're up and the next you're down; one minute you're in favour and the next you're forgotten. You go away and you come back again.
Grief, as I read somewhere once, is a lazy Susan. One day it is heavy and underwater, and the next day it spins and stops at loud and rageful, and the next day at wounded keening, and the next day numbness, silence.
We live in the Age of the Next New Thing; we're assaulted day and night by tastemakers telling us what the next hit will be, the next style, the next cool.
I think that's one of the things you start learning from being hot and playing every day at the beginning, you know. The league, they made their adjustments and their change to you, the way they pitch you, the way they attack you, and just learning and learning from that and making the adjustments the very next at bat or the very next pitch.
The first time I was in the ring, I wasn't good at it, and I honestly thought, 'Maybe this isn't for me.' Then I went back the next day and the next day and the next day... because I loved it more than anything.
If you get enough sleep, cut back on cigarettes and red meat, you look better the next day