I've Just Kept On Ceaselessly Painting In

The Cypresses Are Always Occupying My Thoughts.

The More Ugly, Older, More Cantankerous, More Ill And Poorer I Become, The More I Try To Make Amends By Making My Colours More Vibrant, More Balanced And Beaming.

Success Is Sometimes The Outcome Of A Whole String Of Failures.

I Always Dream A Painting Like That, With A Group Of Lively Figures Of The Pals.

If I Am Worth Anything Later, I Am Worth Something Now. For Wheat Is Wheat, Even If People Think It Is A Grass In The Beginning.