Art To Me Is An Anecdote Of

Look, It's My Misery That I Have To Paint This Kind Of Painting, It's Your Misery That You Have To Love It, And The Price Of The Misery Is Thirteen Hundred And Fifty Dollars.

It Is Really A Matter Of Ending This Silence And Solitude, Of Breathing And Stretching One's Arms Again.

A Picture Lives By Companionship, Expanding And Quickening In The Eyes Of The Sensitive Observer. It Dies By The Same Token. It Is Therefore Risky To Send It Out Into The World. How Often It Must Be Impaired By The Eyes Of The Unfeeling And The Cruelty Of The Impotent.

The Abstract Artist Has Given Material Existence To Many Unseen Worlds And Tempi.

We Favor The Simple Expression Of The Complex Thought. We Are For The Large Shape Because It Has The Impact Of The Unequivocal. We Wish To Reassert The Picture Plane. We Are For Flat Forms Because They Destroy Illusion And Reveal Truth.