The Virtue Of Pride, Which Was Once

The Role Of The Painter . . . Is To Project That Which Sees Itself In Him.

When The Artist Finds Himself He Is Lost. The Fact That He Has Succeeded In Never Finding Himself Is Regarded By Max Ernst As His Only Lasting Achievement.

Painting Is Neither Decorative Amusement, Nor The Plastic Invention Of Felt Reality; It Must Be Every Time: Invention, Discovery, Revelation.

Art Has Got Nothing To Do With Taste.

And Loplop, Bird Superior, Has Transformed Himself Into Flesh Without Flesh And Will Dwell Among Us.