If I Don't Have Red, I Use

Cubism Is Not A Reality You Can Take In Your Hand. It's More Like A Perfume, In Front Of You, Behind You, To The Sides, The Scent Is Everywhere But You Don’t Quite Know Where It Comes From.

What I Have To Do Is Utilize As Best I Can The Ideas Which Objects Suggest To Me, Connect, Fuse, And Color In My Way The Shadows They Cast Within Me, Illumine Them From The Inside. And Since Of Necessity My Vision Is Quite Different From That Of The Next Man, My Painting Will Interpret Things In An Entirely Different Manner Even Though It Makes Use Of The Same Elements.

Now There Is Fame! Of All - Hunger, Misery, The Incomprehension By The Public - Fame Is By Far The Worst. It Is The Castigation Of God By The Artist. It Is Sad. It Is True.

Because I Cannot Work Except In Solitude, It Is Necessary That I Live My Work And That Is Impossible Except In Solitude.

We Might Adapt For The Artist The Joke About There Being Nothing More Dangerous Than Instruments Of War In The Hands Of Generals. In The Same Way, There Is Nothing More Dangerous Than Justice In The Hands Of Judges, And A Paint Brush In The Hands Of A Painter! Just Think Of The Danger To Society! But Today We Haven't The Heart To Expel The Painters And Poets Because We No Longer Admit To Ourselves That There Is Any Danger In Keeping Them In Our Midst.