Since There Is No Such Thing As

Of Course I Constantly Despair At My Own Incapacity, At The Impossibility Of Ever Accomplishing Anything, Of Painting A Valid, True Picture Or Even Knowing What Such A Thing Ought To Look Like. But Then I Always Have The Hope That, If I Persevere, It Might One Day Happen. And This Hope Is Nurtured Every Time Something Appears, A Scattered, Partial, Initial Hint Of Something Which Reminds Me Of What I Long For, Or Which Conveys A Hint Of It – Although Often Enough I Have Been Fooled By A Momentary Glimpse That Then Vanishes, Leaving Behind Only The Usual Thing.

As A Matter Of Fact, It Was Only Through The Dealer Fred Jahn That I Succeeded In Overcoming My Reservation About The Works On Paper And Exhibiting Them. Added To This, Of Course, Was The Fact That After Ten Years I Could See The Watercolours In A Different Light, And In Conjunction With Pictures Painted Afterwards, They Had At Least Become More Comprehensible To Me.

I Am Thankful That The Church Exists, Thankful That It Has Done Such Great Things, Giving Us Laws, For Instance - 'thou Shalt' And 'thou Shalt Not', And Established Goodness And Evil. That's What All Religions Do, And As Soon As We Try To Replace Them, Worldly Religions Like Fascism And Communism Take Over.

The Grey Paintings, For Example, A Painted Grey Surface, Completely Monochromatic - They Come From A Motivation, Or Result From A State, That Was Very Negative. It Has A Lot To Do With Hopelessness, Depression And Such Things. But It Has To Be Turned On Its Head In The End, And Has To Come To A Form Where These Paintings Possess Beauty. And In This Case, It's Not A Carefree Beauty, But Rather A Serious One.

I've Never Found Anything To Be Lacking In A Blurry Canvas. Quite The Contrary: You Can See Many More Things In It Than In A Sharply Focused Image. A Landscape Painted With Exactness Forces You To See A Determined Number Of Clearly Differentiated Trees, While In A Blurry Canvas You Can Perceive As Many Trees As You Want. The Painting Is More Open.