I Throw Down The Gauntlet To Chance.

More Important Than A Work Of Art Itself Is What It Will Sow. Art Can Die, A Painting Can Disappear. What Counts Is The Seed.

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.

Throughout The Time In Which I Am Working On A Canvas I Can Feel How I Am Beginning To Love It, With That Love Which Is Born Of Slow Comprehension.

I Start From Something Considered Dead And Arrive At A World. And When I Put A Title On It, It Becomes Even More Alive.

To Gain Freedom Is To Gain Simplicity.