The Pictorial Work Was Born Of Movement,

Be Winged Arrows Aiming At Fulfillment And Goal.

The Way To Form Transcends Its Own Destination, Goes Beyond The End Of The Way Itself.

What My Art Probably Lacks Is A Kind Of Passionate Humanity... There Is No Sensuous Relationship, Not Even The Noblest, Between Myself And The Many.

It Is Possible That A Picture Will Move Far Away From Nature And Yet Find Its Way Back To Reality. The Faculty Of Memory, Experience At A Distance Produces Pictorial Associations.

Color Has Got Me. I No Longer Need To Chase After It. It Has Got Me For Ever. I Know It. That Is The Meaning Of This Happy Hour.