The Contour Eludes Me.

Painting Is Founded On The Heart Controlled By The Head.

We Live In A Rainbow Of Chaos.

See How The Light Tenderly Love The Apricots, It Takes Them Over Completely, Enters Into Their Pulp, Light Them From All Sides! But It Is Miserly With The Peaches And Light Only One Side Of Them.

With A Painter's Temperament, All That's Needed Are The Means Of Expression Sufficient To Be Intelligible To The Wide Public.

All The Theories Mess You Up Inside.