Pure Drawing Is An Abstraction.

What I Am Trying To Translate To You Is More Mysterious, It Is Entwined In The Very Roots Of Being, In The Implacable Source Of Sensations.

My Nervous System Is Enfeebled, Only Work In Oils Can Sustain Me.

Under This Fine Rain I Breathe In The Innocence Of The World. I Feel Coloured By The Nuances Of Infinity. At This Moment I Am One With My Picture. We Are An Iridescent Chaos.

One Must See One's Model Correctly And Experience It In The Right Way; And Furthermore Express Oneself Forcibly And With Distinction.

One Can Do Good Things Without Being Very Much Of A Harmonist Or A Colourist. It Is Sufficient To Have A Sense Of Art - And This Sense Is Doubtless The Horror Of The Bourgeois.