While I Am Working I Am Not

I Don't Know In Advance What I Am Going To Put On Canvas Any More Than I Decide Beforehand What Colours I Am Going To Use.

When It Comes Right Down To It, All You Have Is Your Self. Your Self Is A Sun With A Thousand Rays.

I Hate That Aesthetic Game Of The Eye And The Mind, Played By These Connoisseurs, These Mandarins Who "appreciate" Beauty. What Is Beauty, Anyway? There's No Such Thing. I Never "appreciate," Any More Than I "like." I Love It Or I Hate.

Unless Your Work Gives You Trouble, It Is No Good.

To Blossom Forth, A Work Of Art Must Ignore Or Rather Forget All The Rules.