The More I Work, The More I

The Older I Grow, The More I Find Myself Alone.

In The Past I Have Never Thought About Loneliness When Working, And I Don't Think About It Now. Yet There Must Be A Reason For The Fact That So Many People Talk About It.

In A Fire, Between A Rembrandt And A Cat, I Would Save The Cat.

All The Art Of The Past Rises Up Before Me, The Art Of All Ages And All Civilizations, Everything Becomes Simultaneous, As If Space Had Replaced Time. Memories Of Works Of Art Blend With Affective Memories, With My Work, With My Whole Life.

I See Something, Find It Marvelous, Want To Try And Do It. Whether It Fails Or Whether It Comes Off In The End Becomes Secondary. . . . So Long As I've Learned Something About Why.