Having loved the Stones all the time I was growing up, I wasn't about to see them go and split up. It got very close to it in the 80s, when Mick thought that Keith hated him and vice versa.
I heard this massive thud. I spun around, and there Keith was, on the ground. He'd cut his gums up on impact, he was very bloody, and clutching his head. I think it was a kind of wake-up call for him.
I just think my body can't handle it any more. I did try a little drink a while back, and I was actually physically ill. I went into an immediate depression, and felt awful, just dreadful. So that's it. I'm over it now.
I've got an article where my mum says that I used to run home from school to watch the Stones on TV. Right from when I was at college I wanted to be in that band.
It's taken folk a while to come around, hasn't it? Even the boys in the band weren't too sure about the whole art thing. They just wanted me to concentrate on the music. But they respect it now.
Mick has expressed an interest in coming to the gallery tonight because he's seen me behaving myself lately. He is being much more supportive, which is nice.