In the mid nineties I lived on 5st and 2 Ave, in the Boweries. it was truly a student bohemian dream life style. I used to see this man eternally sitting at the window of the Cooper Union Diner (The food was terrible there). I knew he must have been some kind of icon as I recognised him from the Calvin Klein ads. In my mind, I (mistakenly) associated him with the Warhol crowd, thinking he was a survivor of that era. He spent entire days at that window, hardly moving except for blinking, like a big gay iguana. Believe it or not back in those days I was really shy about approaching people to take their portraits and never summoned any courage to approach him. There was something really daunting about taking photos, maybe because I was really concerned with technicalitys, like being constantly in charge of the depth of field. Eventually my socialite friend Eric Conrad made the introduction and I went to the Cooper Union Diner to meet Quentin. The secret was I was meant to pay for his lunch. The reason he sat at the window all day long, was that he waited for anyone to stop by and pay his bill. He never ever paid for food. There was nothing queenie or camp about his postures and mannerisms but actually he was rather elegant and aristocratic, in a sort of aviary or reptilian way. It was a spectacle to see him dart through the traffic like a raptor uncaring of potential accidents to himself or the drivers. Senile and sharp at once he was very proud of remembering at heart all of his own writings from any book he wrote, or any interview he had ever given, but he would forget any face within a couple of days, and I had to reintroduce myself every time I shot with him. I would say that my career as a portrait artist began shooting him.