The Greatest Mystery Of All Is Reality.

I Passed Blindly Many Things Which Belong To Real And Political Life.

Height, Width, And Depth Are The Three Phenomena Which I Must Transfer Into One Plane To Form The Abstract Surface Of The Picture, And Thus To Protect Myself From The Infinity Of Space.

What Matters Is Real Love For Things Of The World Outside Us And For The Deep Secrets Within Us.

The Important Thing Is First Of All To Have A Real Love For The Visible World That Lies Outside Ourselves As Well As To Know The Deep Secret Of What Goes On Within Ourselves.

The World Is Rather Shot To Pieces [end Of World War Ii - 1945], But The Spectators Climb Out Of Their Caves And Pretend To Have Again Become Normal And Customary Humans Who Ask Each Other's Pardon Instead Of Eating One Another Or Sucking Each Other's Blood. The Entertaining Folly Of War Evaporates, Distinguished Boredom Sits Down Again On The Dignified Old Overstuffed Chairs.. .may I Report About Myself That I Have Had A Truly Grotesque Time, Brim-full With Work, Nazi Persecutions, Bombs, Hunger, And Again And Again Work - In Spite Of Everything [a. O. Using His Bed Sheets As Canvas For The New Paintings].