Silence Is So Accurate.

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.

There Is No Such Thing As Good Painting About Nothing.

Art To Me Is An Anecdote Of The Spirit, And The Only Means Of Making Concrete The Purpose Of Its Varied Quickness And Stillness.

(i Am) Dealing Not With The Particular Anecdote, But Rather With The Spirit Of Myth, Which Is Generic To All Myths At All Times.

The Picture Must Be... A Revelation, An Unexpected And Unprecedented Resolution Of An Eternally Familiar Need.