The More I Work, The More I

Never, Never Do I Set To Work On A Canvas In The State It Comes In From The Shop. I Provoke Accidents - A Form, A Splotch Of Color. Any Accident Is Good Enough. I Let The Matiere Decide. Then I Prepare A Ground By, For Example, Wiping My Brushes On The Canvas. Letting Fall Some Drops Of Turpentine On It Would Do Just As Well. If I Want To Make A Drawing I Crumple The Sheet Of Paper Or I Wet It; The Flowing Water Traces A Line And This Line May Suggest What Is To Come Next.

The Painting Rises From The Brushstrokes As A Poem Rises From The Words. The Meaning Comes Later.

A Modeled Form Is Less Striking Than One Which Is Not. Modeling Prevents Shock And Limits Movement To The Visual Depth. Without Modeling Or Chiaroscuro Depth Is Limitless: Movement Can Stretch To Infinity.

I Make No Distinction Between Poetry And Painting.

A Simple Line Painted With The Brush Can Lead To Freedom And Happiness.