The Only Secret I Can Claim To

I Could Never Put Anything Into A Picture That Wasn't Actually There In Front Of Me. That Would Be A Pointless Lie, A Mere Bit Of Artfulness.

I Want Paint To Work As Flesh... My Portraits To Be Of The People, Not Like Them. Not Having A Look Of The Sitter, Being Them ... As Far As I Am Concerned The Paint Is The Person. I Want It To Work For Me Just As Flesh Does.

When I Look At A Body It Gives Me Choice Of What To Put In A Painting, What Will Suit Me And What Won't. There Is A Distinction Between Fact And Truth. Truth Has An Element Of Revelation About It. If Something Is True, It Does More Than Strike One As Merely Being So.

I Always Felt That My Work Hadn't Much To Do With Art; My Admirations For Other Art Had Very Little Room To Show Themselves In My Work Because I Hoped That If I Concentrated Enough The Intensity Of Scrutiny Alone Would Force Life Into The Pictures. I Ignored The Fact That Art, After All, Derives From Art. Now I Realize That This Is The Case.

The Task Of The Artist Is To Make The Human Being Uncomfortable.