For Me, There Are Two Kinds Of

Every Now And Then One Paints A Picture That Seems To Have Opened A Door And Serves As A Stepping Stone To Other Things.

I Paint The Way Some People Write An Autobiography. The Paintings, Finished Or Not, Are The Pages From My Diary.

In Life You Throw A Ball. You Hope It Will Reach A Wall And Bounce Back So You Can Throw It Again. You Hope Your Friends Will Provide That Wall.

Age Only Matters When One Is Aging. Now That I Have Arrived At A Great Age, I Might As Well Be Twenty.

Have You Noticed That Bones Are Always Modeled And Not Carved, That You Always Have The Impression They Come From A Mold, That They Were First Modeled In Clay? Any Bone You Look At, You Always Find Fingerprints On It.