I Paint In Order Not To Cry.

Light And The Rational Forms Are Locked In Combat; Light Sets Them Into Motion, Bends What Is Straight, Makes Parallels Oval, Inscribes Circles In The Intervals, Makes The Intervals Active.

Color Has Got Me. I No Longer Need To Chase After It. It Has Got Me For Ever. I Know It. That Is The Meaning Of This Happy Hour.

I Want To Be As Though New-born, Knowing Nothing, Absolutely Nothing. Then I Want To Do Something Modest; To Work Out By Myself A Tiny, Formal Motive, One That My Pencil Will Be Able To Hold Without Technique.

A Tendency Toward The Abstract Is Inherent In Linear Expression: Graphic Imagery Being Confined To Outlines Has A Fairy-like Quality And At The Same Time Can Achieve Great Precision.

A Line Is A Dot That Went For A Walk.