As a kid I quite fancied the romantic Bohemian idea of being an artist. I expect I thought I could escape from the difficulties of maths and spelling. Maybe I thought I would avoid the judgement of the establishment.

It was my mom and I against the world. We lived in New York in this bohemian lifestyle where an extended group of artists and photographers were like my aunts and uncles.

I'm a girl from a good family who was very well brought up. One day I turned my back on it all and became a bohemian.

I had bohemian parents in Seattle in the last '60s living in a houseboat. My dad wrote science fiction novels and painted big murals and oil paintings.

Big Star invented a vision of bohemian rock & roll cool that had nothing to do with New York Los Angeles or London which made them completely out of style in the 1970s but also made them an inspiration to generations of weird Southern kids.

I realised the bohemian life was not for me. I would look around at my friends living like starving artists and wonder 'Where's the art?' They weren't doing anything. And there was so much interesting stuff to do so much fun to be had... maybe I could even quit renting.