All The Things An Artist Must Be:

I Paint In Order Not To Cry.

Everything Vanishes Around Me, And Works Are Born As If Out Of The Void. Ripe, Graphic Fruits Fall Off. My Hand Has Become The Obedient Instrument Of A Remote Will.

There Is No Substitute For Intuition.

Every Artist Would Like To Live In The Central Organ Of Creation... Not All Are Destined To Get There... But Our Beating Hearts Drive Us Deep Down, Right Into The Pit Of Creation.

The Biblical Story Of The Creation Is An Excellent Parable Of Movement. The Work Of Art, Too, Is Above All A Process Of Creation, It Is Never Experienced As A Mere Product.