My Eyes Were Finally Opened And I

The Thames Was All Gold. God It Was Beautiful, So Fine That I Began Working A Frenzy, Following The Sun And Its Reflections On The Water.

I Waited For The Idea To Consolidate, For The Grouping And Composition Of Themes To Settle Themselves In My Brain.

No One Is An Artist Unless He Carries His Picture In His Head Before Painting It, And Is Sure Of His Method And Composition.

I Would Like To Paint The Way A Bird Sings.

Nature Won't Be Summoned To Order And Won't Be Kept Waiting. It Must Be Caught, Well Caught.