A Thing Which Is Present Can Be

A Truly Poetic Canvas Is An Awakened Dream.

The Mind Loves The Unknown. It Loves Images Whose Meaning Is Unknown, Since The Meaning Of The Mind Itself Is Unknown.

Painting Bores Me Like Everything Else. Unfortunately, Painting Is One Of The Activities - It Is Bound Up In The Series Of Activities - That Seems To Change Almost Nothing In Life, The Same Habits Are Always Recurring.

My Painting Is Visible Images Which Conceal Nothing... They Evoke Mystery And Indeed When One Sees One Of My Pictures, One Asks Oneself This Simple Question 'what Does That Mean'? It Does Not Mean Anything, Because Mystery Means Nothing Either, It Is Unknowable.

If The Dream Is A Translation Of Waking Life, Waking Life Is Also A Translation Of The Dream.