It Is The Artistic Mission To Penetrate

From The Root, The Sap Rises Up Into The Artist, Flows Through Him, Flows To His Eye. Overwhelmed And Activated By The Force Of The Current, He Conveys His Vision Into His Work. And Yet, Standing At His Appointed Place As The Trunk Of The Tree, He Does Nothing Other Than Gather And Pass On What Rises From The Depths. He Neither Serves Nor Commands He Transmits. His Position Is Humble. And The Beauty At The Crown Is Not His Own; It Has Merely Passed Through Him.

One Day I Will Lie Nowhere With An Angel At My Side.

A Line Is A Dot That Went For A Walk.

Reduction! One Wants To Say More Than Nature And One Makes The Impossible Mistake Of Wanting To Say It With More Means Than She, Instead Of Fewer.

The Biblical Story Of The Creation Is An Excellent Parable Of Movement. The Work Of Art, Too, Is Above All A Process Of Creation, It Is Never Experienced As A Mere Product.