In Art One Idea Is As Good

Flesh Was The Reason Why Oil Painting Was Invented

Art Never Seems To Make Me Peaceful Or Pure. I Always Seem To Be Wrapped In The Melodrama Of Vulgarity. I Do Not Think... Of Art As A Situation Of Comfort.

The Attitude That Nature Is Chaotic And That The Artist Puts Order Into It Is A Very Absurd Point Of View, I Think. All That We Can Hope For Is To Put Some Order Into Ourselves.

I Paint The Way I Do Because I Can Keep On Putting More And More Things In - Like Drama, Pain, Anger, Love, A Figure, A Horse, My Ideas Of Space. It Doesn't Matter If It Differs From Mine, As Long As It Comes From The Painting, Which Has Its Own Integrity And Intensity.

Man's Own Form In Space - His Body - Was A Private Prison; And That It Was Because Of This Imprisoning Misery - Because He Was Hungry And Overworked And Went To A Horrid Place Called Home Late At Night In The Rain, And His Bones Ached And His Head Was Heavy.