I Should Like To Paint Like An

I Am A Night Painter, So When I Come Into The Studio The Next Morning The Delirium Is Over.

In My Experience A Painting Is Not Made With Colors And Paint At All. I Don't Know What A Painting Is; Who Knows What Sets Off Even The Desire To Paint?

There Comes A Point When The Paint Doesn't Feel Like Paint. I Don't Know Why. Some Mysterious Thing Happens. I Think You Have All Experienced It... What Counts Is That The Paint Should Really Disappear, Otherwise It's Craft.

You Know, Comments About Style Always Seem Strange To Me - 'why Do You Work In This Style, Or In That Style' - As If You Had A Choice In The Matter... What You're Doing Is Trying To Stay Alive And Continue And Not Die.

I Have A Studio In The Country - In The Woods - But My Paintings Look More Real To Me Than What Is Outdoors. You Walk Outside; The Rocks Are Inert; Even The Clouds Are Inert. It Makes Me Feel A Little Better. But I Do Have A Faith That It Is Possible To Make A Living Thing, Not A Diagram Of What I Have Been Thinking: To Posit With Paint Something Living, Something That Changes Each Day.