When we visit a museum, I think we unconsciously, or otherwise, look for things that reflect us back to ourselves in some way. Our preferences are formed by the culture, family and social environment we grew up in. Why was I drawn to all those swooning women by Greuze, Schopin and Boilly? Am I somehow admitting to being a bit of a drama queen? Or is it a reflection of the turbulence of my (and Shirley's) early life? What do the brooding trees depicted in landscapes by Cuyp or Decamps say about me, the boy who grew up in rural Essex? Or heaven forbid that someone might see me in the jester Polichinelle by Meissonier. We humans are narrative animals, we search for a story that gives meaning and emotional logic to our lives. We look at art through the fractured and tinted lens of our own experience.

Grayson Perry