The More I Live, The More I

I Can No Longer Work Outside Because Of The Intensity Of The Light.

As For Myself, I Met With As Much Success As I Ever Could Have Wanted. In Other Words, I Was Enthusiastically Run-down By Every Critic Of The Period.

I've Done What I Could As A Painter And That Seems To Me To Be Sufficient. I Don't Want To Be Compared To The Great Masters Of The Past, And My Painting Is Open To Criticism; That's Enough.

I Am Enslaved To My Work, Always Wanting The Impossible, And Never, I Believe, Have I Been Less Favoured By The Endlessly Changeable Weather.

I See Less And Less... I Need To Avoid Lateral Light, Which Darkens My Colors. Nevertheless, I Always Paint At The Times Of Day Most Propitious For Me, As Long As My Paint Tubes And Brushes Are Not Mixed Up... I Will Paint Almost Blind, As Beethoven Composed Completely Deaf.