Becoming Is Superior To Being.

Colour Has Taken Hold Of Me; No Longer Do I Have To Chase After It. I Know That It Has Hold Of Me Forever. That Is The Significance Of This Blessed Moment

My Mirror Probes Down To The Heart. I Write Words On The Forehead And Around The Corners Of The Mouth. My Human Faces Are Truer Than The Real Ones.

The More Horrible This World (as Today, For Instance), The More Abstract Our Art, Whereas A Happy World Brings Forth An Art Of The Here And Now.

Sometimes I Dream Of A Work Of Really Great Breadth, Ranging Through The Whole Region Of Object, Meaning, And Style. This, I Fear, Will Remain A Dream, But It Is A Good Thing To Bear The Possibility Occasionally In Mind.

The Creation Of A Work Of Art Must Of Necessity, As A Result Of Entering Into The Specific Dimensions Of Pictorial Art, Be Accompanied By Distortion Of The Natural Form. For, Therein Is Nature Reborn.