Color Is The Place Where Our Brain

Beauty Is As Relative As Light And Dark. Thus, There Exists No Beautiful Woman, None At All, Because You Are Never Certain That A Still Far More Beautiful Woman Will Not Appear And Completely Shame The Supposed Beauty Of The First.

I Want To Be As Though Newborn. To Be Almost Primitive.

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

The Beholder's Eye, Which Moves Like An Animal Grazing, Follows Paths Prepared For It In The Picture.

The Beautiful, Which Is Perhaps Inseparable From Art, Is Not After All Tied To The Subject, But To The Pictorial Representation. In This Way And In No Other Does Art Overcome The Ugly Without Avoiding It.