It Seems To Me That Today If

Nothing In Art Should Seem Accidental, Not Even Movement

And Even This Heart Of Mine Has Something Artificial. The Dancers Have Sewn It Into A Bag Of Pink Satin, Pink Satin Slightly Faded, Like Their Dancing Shoes.

It Requires Courage To Make A Frontal Attack On Nature Through The Broad Planes And The Large Lines And It Is Cowardly To Do It By The Facets And Details. It Is A Battle.

I'm Glad I Haven't Found My Style Yet. I'd Be Bored To Death.

If I Could Have Had My Own Way, I Would Have Confined Myself To Black And White.