Lord, Protect Me From What I Want!

I Understand How You Could See Something In The Root Of A Tree, A Crack In The Wall, In An Eroded Stone Or Pebble. But Marble? It Comes Off In Blocks And Doesn't Evoke Any Image. It Does Not Inspire.

It Took Me A Lifetime.

Painting Is A Jeu D'esprit.

He Was An Afghan Hound Name Kabul. Since Him I Have Had Other Afghan Hounds.... Perhaps I Am Looking For His Ghost. He Is The Only One That I Sometimes Think About. Often, If He Comes In To My Mind When I Am Working, It Alters What I Do. The Nose On The Face I Am Drawing Gets Longer And Sharper. The Hair Of The Woman I Am Sketching Gets Longer And Fluffy, Resting Against Her Cheeks Like His Ears Rested Against His Head.

My Whole Life Has Been Nothing More Than A Continuous Struggle Against Reaction And The Death Of Art.