I Do Not Literally Paint That Table,

If People Knew What Matisse, Supposedly The Painter Of Happiness, Had Gone Through, The Anguish And Tragedy He Had To Overcome To Manage To Capture That Light Which Has Never Left Him, If People Knew All That, They Would Also Realize That This Happiness, This Light, This Dispassionate Wisdom Which Seems To Be Mine, Are Sometimes Well-deserved, Given The Severity Of My Trials.

Truth And Reality In Art Begin At The Point Where The Artist Ceases To Understand What He Is Doing And Capable Of Doing - Yet Feels In Himself A Force That Becomes Steadily Stronger... And More Concentrated.

I Dream Of An Art Of Balance, Of Quietness, Something Analogous To A Good Armchair.

My Curves Are Not Crazy.

I Have Been No More Than A Medium, As It Were.