(G.V.): He took his grandfather’s name on his own authority? Is it allowed, just changing your name like that?
(Therapist): He has an official name for official purposes, and he has an artist’s name.
(M.P.): But you should mention that I took on my grandfathers name a year or two earlier, before he died.
(Therapist): At the time he was living a bohemian life and read-ing books that dealt with suicidal themes.
(M.P.): I was fascinated by a French surrealist who has written very little, mostly he just lives what he thinks.
(G.V.): Have you taken a lot of drugs, had many experiences with drugs?
(M.P.): Not especially, this is not a drug story; besides, my expe-riences with drugs weren’t that big of a deal. I think six trips are a lot for a homeopath (laughs), but people with real drug histories have taken three or four hundred trips.
(Therapist): He said that he often felt very humiliated. I got the feeling that, at that time, life was something artificial to him, like a film.
(M.P.): Maybe I should explain. At that point I had just begun at the drama academy. I also had roles in plays and I was also involved with fine arts. If you get down deep into it, you’ll find that it’s all in your head. You are constantly thinking, searching for the moments that spur you to work. It is not easy to realize all your plans, even if you have the opportunity. Sometimes you just stand there and nothing comes out. It’s a difficult, hard, search-ing process, stressful; a pressure just to find a way out of your creative block.
(G.V.): What were you searching for?
(M.P.): As Van Gogh said, “The wall between what you feel and what you can do.”
(G.V.): That’s what you meant when you said that your life was like a film?
(M.P.): That’s what my therapist said, I never said that my life was like a film. He saw my life like that, I didn’t.