Art Is An Escape From Reality.

You Study, You Learn, But You Guard The Original Naivete. It Has To Be Within You, As Desire For Drink Is Within The Drunkard Or Love Is Within The Lover.

I Was Driven On By.. A Force Which I See Today As Something Alien To My Normal Life... So I Have Been No More Than A Medium As It Were.

Arrival = Prison, And The Artist Must Never Be A Prisoner.

When I Put A Green, It Is Not Grass. When I Put A Blue, It Is Not The Sky.

Perhaps I Might Be Satisfied, Momentarily, With A Work Finished At One Sitting, But I Would Soon Get Bored Looking At It; Therefore, I Prefer To Continue Working On It So That Later I May Recognize It As A Work Of My Mind.