When I Start Thinking, All Is Lost.

The Transposition That A Painter Makes With An Original Vision Gives To The Representation Of Nature A New Interest.

I Am The Primitive Of The Method I Have Invented.

Under This Fine Rain I Breathe In The Innocence Of The World. I Feel Coloured By The Nuances Of Infinity. At This Moment I Am One With My Picture. We Are An Iridescent Chaos.

One Does Not Substitute Oneself For The Past, One Merely Adds To It A New Link.

It's So Fine And Yet So Terrible To Stand In Front Of A Blank Canvas.