A Puny Body Weakens The Soul.

It's Not Just About Looking And Copying, It's About Feeling Too

Shut Your Eyes, Wait, Think Of Nothing. Now, Open Them ... One Sees Nothing But A Great Coloured Undulation. What Then? An Irradiation And Glory Of Colour. This Is What A Picture Should Give Us ... An Abyss In Which The Eye Is Lost, A Secret Germination, A Coloured State Of Grace ... Loose Conciousness. Descend With The Painter Into The Dim Tangled Roots Of Things, And Rise Again From Them In Colours, Be Steeped In The Light Of Them.

Right Now A Moment Of Time Is Passing By!... We Must Become That Moment.

It Took Me 40 Years To Find Out That Painting Is Not Sculpture.

All Pictures Painted Inside In The Studio Will Never Be As Good As The Things Done Outside.