I begin by asking her how she feels about people (and not just me) observing and analysing her because of the nature of the art she produces. 'Sometimes I feel all right about it, but sometimes I get really paranoid.' She speaks quietly, with frequent hesitant thinking pauses, some filled with 'ums' and long reflective silences. 'Sometimes I don't want people to see what I feel inside. A while ago I had to get on to an aeroplane, alone, and I was really crying. I didn't want people to see I was crying so I wanted to put my sunglasses on to cover it up. But this is a big problem. If I hadn't worn the sunglasses, the public would have said, "Tracey Emin's got no emotional control." If I wear the sunglasses they say, "Tracey Emin thinks she's the big celebrity artist."
tracey emin: my favourite artist together with andy warhol
I suppose I have a really loose interpretation of "work," because I think that just being alive is so much work at something you don't always want to do. The machinery is always going. Even when you sleep