Since infancy I have been robust; I have never even had children's self-portrait diseases. When walking with my father, I tried to match his steps, thus got into the habit of making long strides, and when mature, I never met a man who could equal them. This was due to a trick I evolved while walking. It consists, till this day, of directing the feet straight forward, as the Indians do, and in the very last instant of placing the front foot on the ground, pushing myself forward without an upward bounce, effortlessly. It was Ben Hecht who first noticed this floating in the air as if I were ballet-trained.

Prior to marriage, I walked, even when I had not had any food for a few days at a time, swiftly though seemingly not taking any huge steps. Since marriage I have not walked, because Americans never walk. They must have automobiles to go to the bathroom. They will eventually be born legless, for they do not find pleasure in normal physical effort.

Though I never exercise, people are astounded at the steel-hard muscles I have at my late years. When I strike my abdomen with stiff fingertips, you can hear the two hard objects meet across the room. My neck is 16", though my total height is 5'7". Recently I discovered why my shirt-collars have to be excessively wide: every creature, while sleeping, must turn every so many minutes. Cows turn every 40 minutes. When I turn from sleeping on one shoulder to the other, I arch my body between my heels and the tip of my head. Thus I exercise my neck, unknowingly, lifting some 150 pounds each time.

Though you may regard me as a fine technician now, I once had to devise my own way of attaining perspective in drawings without making the usual hundreds of straight lines coming to one point, by not sketching carelessly. I believe sketching is bad for an accomplished artist, for it re-introduces the sloppy workmanship of his student time. It would be as if a fine surgeon, after acquiring his great skill, would restart dissecting again while operating on a brain or eye.