All I Did Was To Look At

While Adding The Finishing Touches To A Painting Might Appear Insignificant, It Is Much Harder To Do Than One Might Suppose.

Color Is My Day-long Obsession, Joy And Torment. To Such An Extent Indeed That One Day, Finding Myself At The Deathbed Of A Woman Who Had Been And Still Was Very Dear To Me, I Caught Myself In The Act Of Focusing On Her Temples And Automatically Analyzing The Succession Of Appropriately Graded Colors Which Death Was Imposing On Her Motionless Face.

By The Single Example Of This Painter Devoted To His Art With Such Independence, My Destiny As A Painter Opened Out To Me.

I Perhaps Owe Having Become A Painter To Flowers.

When I Look At Nature I Feel As If I'll Be Able To Paint It All, Note It All Down, And Then You Might As Well Forget It Once You're Working.