For Me, A Painting Must Give Off

Never, Never Do I Set To Work On A Canvas In The State It Comes In From The Shop. I Provoke Accidents - A Form, A Splotch Of Color. Any Accident Is Good Enough. I Let The Matiere Decide. Then I Prepare A Ground By, For Example, Wiping My Brushes On The Canvas. Letting Fall Some Drops Of Turpentine On It Would Do Just As Well. If I Want To Make A Drawing I Crumple The Sheet Of Paper Or I Wet It; The Flowing Water Traces A Line And This Line May Suggest What Is To Come Next.

My Tendency Towards Bareness And Simplification Has Been Practiced In Three Fields: Modeling, Colors, And The Figuration Of The Personages.

Poetry And Painting Are Done In The Same Way You Make Love; It's An Exchange Of Blood, A Total Embrace - Without Caution, Without Any Thought Of Protecting Yourself.

When I Stand Before A Canvas, I Never Know What I'll Do, And I Am The First One Surprised At What Comes Out.

I Work Like A Gardener.