The Artist Himself May Not Think He

Art Is Art, Nature Is Nature, You Cannot Improve Upon It.... Pictures Should Be Inspired By Nature, But Made In The Soul Of The Artist. It Is The Soul Of The Individual That Counts.

The House Begins To Be A Home. The Unfamiliar Places Are Beginning To Fold The Familiar Objects Into Their Keeping And To Cozy Them Down. Objects That Swore At Each Other When The Movers Heaved Them Into The New Rooms Have Subsided Into Corners And Sit To Lick Their Feet And Wash Their Faces Like Cats Accepting A New Home.

You Come Into The World Alone And You Go Out Of The World Alone Yet It Seems To Me You Are More Alone While Living Than Even Going And Coming.

There Is No Right And Wrong Way To Paint Except Honestly Or Dishonestly. Honestly Is Trying For The Bigger Thing. Dishonestly Is Bluffing And Getting Through A Smattering Of Surface Representation With No Meaning.

Oh, The Glory Of Growth, Silent, Mighty, Persistent, Inevitable! To Awaken, To Open Up Like A Flower To The Light Of A Fuller Consciousness!