Painting Is A Nail To Which I

There Is Only One Valuable Thing In Art: The Thing You Cannot Explain.

I Have Made A Great Discovery. I No Longer Believe In Anything. Objects Don't Exist For Me Except In So Far As A Rapport Exists Between Them And Myself. When One Attains This Harmony, One Reaches A Sort Of Intellectual Non-existence, What I Can Only Describe As A Sense Of Peace, Which Makes Everything Possible And Right. Life Then Becomes A Perpetual Revelation. That Is True Poetry.

Painting Is A Nail To Which I Fasten My Ideas.

The Space Between The Dish And The Pitcher, That I Paint Also.

It Is The Unforeseeable That Creates The Event.