It Is Really A Matter Of Ending

I Also Hang The Pictures Low Rather Than High, And Particularly In The Case Of The Largest Ones, Often As Close To The Floor As Is Feasible, For That Is The Way They Are Painted.

When I Was A Younger Man, Art Was A Lonely Thing. No Galleries, No Collectors, No Critics, No Money. Yet, It Was A Golden Age, For We All Had Nothing To Lose And A Vision To Gain. Today It Is Not Quite The Same. It Is A Time Of Tons Of Verbiage, Activity, Consumption. Which Condition Is Better For The World At Large I Shall Not Venture To Discuss. But I Do Know, That Many Of Those Who Are Driven To This Life Are Desperately Searching For Those Pockets Of Silence Where We Can Root And Grow. We Must All Hope We Find Them.

(i Am) Dealing Not With The Particular Anecdote, But Rather With The Spirit Of Myth, Which Is Generic To All Myths At All Times.

Silence Is So Accurate.

The Artist Invites The Spectator To Take A Journey Within The Realm Of The Canvas... Without Taking The Journey, The Spectator Has Really Missed The Essential Experience Of The Picture.