The Things I Want To Express Are

It Has Always Irked Me As Improper That There Are Still So Many People For Whom The Sky Is No More Than A Mass Of Random Points Of Light. I Do Not See Why We Should Recognize A House, A Tree, Or A Flower Here Below And Not, For Example, The Red Arcturus Up There In The Heavens As It Hangs From Its Constellation Bootes, Like A Basket Hanging From A Balloon.

I Could Fill An Entire Second Life With Working On My Prints.

I Am Always Wandering Around In Enigmas. There Are Young People Who Constantly Come To Tell Me: You, Too, Are Making Op Art. I Haven't The Slightest Idea What That Is, Op Art. I've Been Doing This Work For Thirty Years Now.

I Am Myself: A Light. In Me You Find Your Fate. So Be Not Blind To The Truth Shining From My Glow.

I Can't Keep From Fooling Around With Our Irrefutable Certainties. It Is, For Example, A Pleasure Knowingly To Mix Up Two And Three Dimensionalities, Flat And Spatial, And To Make Fun Of Gravity.