When I Paint A Person, His Enemies

Painting Picture By Picture, I Followed The Impressions My Eye Took In At Heightened Moments. I Painted Only Memories, Adding Nothing, No Details That I Did Not See. Hence The Simplicity Of The Paintings, Their Emptiness.

The Rich Man Who Gives, Steals Twice Over. First He Steals The Money And Then The Hearts Of Men.

Photography Is An Art Which Touches And Grips One's Own Heart's Blood.

Art Comes From Joy And Pain...but Mostly From Pain.

I Do Not Believe In The Art Which Is Not The Compulsive Result Of Man's Urge To Open His Heart