Americans who have parents raised during the Great Depression or World War II understand how drastically things have changed on the home front. My father did not care a whit whether I liked him, and it would have been unthinkable for him to pick up my stuff. There were rules in the house, and they were enforced.
I have always drawn strength from being close to home.
Far more than dreading ending up in a care home myself, I dread having to put my husband in one.
I have this extraordinary life during the day, and then I get to come home to my sweet husband who loves to cook with me. I have a nice glass of wine, he has some scotch, we chat, we cook, and we hang out with the dog. I have an absolute dream life.
Dreams are where we visit the many lands and landscapes of human possibility and discover the one where we feel at home. The great religious leaders were all dreamers.
The home is the center of your soul; it's a total reflection of your inner life. If you have a dreary home, it means you are dark inside.
No matter what, I always make it home for Christmas. I love to go to my Tennessee Mountain Home and invite all of my nieces and nephews and their spouses and kids and do what we all like to do - eat, laugh, trade presents and just enjoy each other... and sometimes I even dress up like Santa Claus!
The aesthetic came along the way, I think - just through experimenting, and going on tour, and trying stuff out on stage, having fun with it, and not taking it too seriously. If I had a ballgown at home, I'd wear it onstage. If I found something in a charity shop, I'd wear it. That's where it grew from - just wanting to play dress-up.
I have a dress-up chest at home. I love to create this fantasy kind of thing.
Day to day, I like to be comfortable. I definitely wear too many jeans; I have so many at home. But I like the whole dress-up thing, too. It's nice to do a little bit of both.
I have a scar on my forehead. I was three years old, jumping on the bed with my brothers, and I fell off and hit my head on the dresser and cut it open, went to the hospital, got stitches, came home, went back on the bed, jumped with my brothers, fell again, and reopened the stitches.
There were times we were kept in our dressing room until late at night because it wasn't safe to go home. Our bus would get attacked, the tires slit.
I do not like going to the dressing room and trying on millions of outfits. I just look at something and hope that it will work. I try it on at home, since I don't like going through the whole process.
Pittsburgh, for a while, became a production centre. There was one $400 million year. Hollywood was bringing productions in there. Films like 'The Silence of the Lambs' and 'Innocent Blood.' So my guys, the guys I worked with, were able to have careers and live at home. But then it dried up, and a lot of my friends left.
Unfortunately, I think I drifted so much growing up that I don't have a strong sense of identity. I don't feel at home anywhere, and because of that, I think I'm more of a chameleon.
Half of the time, I'm walking around a construction site, then I'm transitioning into the evening, having drinks with the girlfriends or meeting with my husband and then racing back home to put the kids to bed. I have less time, so I'm a much more efficient decision maker.
I could drive from the age of nine. My dad had his car pitch at home, and we used to drive the cars around the land, take them up to the tap, wash them, and reverse them back.
I never worry about being driven to drink; I just worry about being driven home.
Greed has driven the world crazy. And I think I'm lucky that I have a place over here that I can call home.
When I was coming home from school as a youngster, and I saw my dad's car in the driveway, I would go to a friend's house. I connected my dad being there with fear.
