I Passed Blindly Many Things Which Belong

I Have Never, God Or Whatever Knows, Prostrated Myself To Be Famous, But I Would Meander Through All The Sewers Of The World, Through All Degradations And Humiliations, In Order To Paint. I Have To Do This. Until The Last Drop Every Vision That Exists In My Being Must Be Purged; Then It Will Be A Pleasure For Me To Be Rid Of This Damned Torture

When Spiritual, Metaphysical, Material, Or Immaterial Events Come Into My Life, I Can Only Fix Them By Way Of Painting.

I Am Seeking For The Bridge Which Leans From The Visible To The Invisible Through Reality.

I Do Not Weep: I Loathe Tears, For They Are A Sign Of Slavery.

Painting Constantly Appeared To Me As The One And Only Possible Achievement.