A Picture Lives By Its Legend -

I See For Others... In Order To Put On Canvas The Sudden Apparitions Which Come To Me.

I Understand How You Could See Something In The Root Of A Tree, A Crack In The Wall, In An Eroded Stone Or Pebble. But Marble? It Comes Off In Blocks And Doesn't Evoke Any Image. It Does Not Inspire.

The Urge To Destroy Is Also A Creative Urge.

I Consider A Work Of Art As A Product Of Calculations, Calculations That Are Frequently Unknown To The Author Himself.

When There's Dust Missing Here Or There, It's Because Someone Has Touched My Things. I See Immediately Someone Has Been There. And It's Because I Live Constantly With Dust, In Dust, That I Prefer To Wear Gray Suits, The Only Color On Which It Leaves No Trace.