The Things One Experiences Alone With Oneself

Remember The Enemy Of All Painting Is Gray: A Painting Will Almost Always Appear Grayer Than It Is, On Account Of Its Oblique Position Under The Light.

The Outcome Of My Days Is Always The Same; An Infinite Desire For What One Never Gets; A Void One Cannot Fill; An Utter Yearning To Produce In All Ways, To Battle As Much As Possible Against Time That Drags Us Along, And The Distractions That Throw A Veil Over Our Soul.

I Have Told Myself A Hundred Times That Painting - That Is, The Material Thing Called A Painting - Is No More Than A Pretext, The Bridge Between The Mind Of The Painter And The Mind Of The Spectator.

Nature Creates Unity Even In The Parts Of A Whole.

I Live In Company With A Body, A Silent Companion, Exacting And Eternal. He It Is Who Notes That Individuality Which Is The Seal Of The Weakness Of Our Race. My Soul Has Wings, But The Brutal Jailer Is Strict.