This bedroom is really special — it looks like a tree house. I started doing this amateur feng shui thing, and I rearranged the furniture with my very limited knowledge. I was looking for a breezier kind of atmosphere, light and airy. I got rid of half the furniture and a lot of clothing, and rearranged my bed — which I had made with some vintage upholstery fabric that I found downtown — at this angle. I find it very peaceful. I like that asymmetrical layout. An artist/painter/muralist/builder by the name of Einar Petersen built this place, called the Petersen Studio Court in Hollywood. He was from Denmark, and this whole complex, of which I have one of six studios, is based on this old Danish sea village. There are also decorative painted pieces he did that I found in a closet when I moved in here. I put a bunch of them up — it adds to the 1920s charm of the place. He also painted these beautiful wood nymphs on two of the cabinet doors in the bathroom area adjacent to the bedroom. When I first moved to L.A., I was pretty young — it was a scary move for me. Without being mythical, when I saw Chicken Boy down on Broadway three days into having moved here, he made me feel at home — there were still a lot of things like that then, old roadside vernacular objects. It was this quietly magical moment, not like a weird thing. Over the years, he became a landmark for me, and I would bring friends from out of town, so I became affiliated with him early on. There was still a restaurant when I first saw him — I never ate there. When the restaurant closed, I took it upon myself to spearhead a movement to save him. He's still living with me, downstairs in my studio. I have this Chicken Boy head in here that is human-size — I had a costume-maker friend build that for me to use in photo shoots. I have had many kindhearted hams dress up like Chicken Boy and accompany me to various events. I'm working hard to find him a suitable home downtown somewhere in a public place, where he'll be repainted and resurrected.