Art Is The Highest Form Of Hope.

Since There Is No Such Thing As Absolute Rightness And Truth, We Always Pursue The Artificial, Leading, Human Truth. We Judge And Make A Truth That Excludes Other Truths. Art Plays A Formative Part In This Manufacture Of Truth.

To Me, Grey Is The Welcome And Only Possible Equivalent For Indifference, Noncommitment, Absence Of Opinion, Absence Of Shape. But Grey, Like Formlessness And The Rest, Can Be Real Only As An Idea, And So All I Can Do Is Create A Colour Nuance That Means Grey But Is Not It. The Painting Is Then A Mixture Of Grey As A Fiction And Grey As A Visible, Designated Area Of Colour.

Based On Mixtures Of The Three Primary Colours, Along With Black And White, I Come Up With A Certain Number Of Possible Colours And, By Multiplying These By Two Or Four, I Obtain A Definite Number Of Colour Fields That I Multiply Yet Again By Two, Etc. But The Complete Realization Of This Project Demands A Great Deal Of Time And Work.

But I Would Like To Reach The Point Where I Could Cut Up An Illustrated Magazine At Random And See To It That The Parts Would Each Become A Painting. I Cannot Properly Explain It Right Now. Already Now I Am Searching For The Most Boring And Irrelevant Photo Material That I Can Find. And I Would Like To Get To The Point Soon Where This Determined Irrelevance Could Be Retained, In Favor Of Something That Would Be Covered Up Otherwise By Artifice.

Perhaps The Doors, Curtains, Surface Pictures, Panes Of Glass, Etc. Are Metaphors Of Despair, Prompted By The Dilemma That Our Sense Of Sight Causes Us To Apprehend Things, But At The Same Time Restricts And Partly Precludes Our Apprehension Of Reality.