I Want To Be As Though Newborn.

He Neither Serves Nor Rules, He Transmits. His Position Is Humble And The Beauty At The Crown Is Not His Own. He Is Merely A Channel.

All Art Is A Memory Of Age-old Things, Dark Things, Whose Fragments Live On In The Artist.

A Certain Fire Pretends To Be Alive; It Awakens. Working Its Way Along The Hand As A Conductor, It Reaches The Support And Engulfs It; Then A Leaping Spark Closes The Circle It Was To Trace, Coming Back To The Eye And Beyond.

In The Final Analysis, A Drawing Simply Is No Longer A Drawing, No Matter How Self-sufficient Its Execution May Be. It Is A Symbol, And The More Profoundly The Imaginary Lines Of Projection Meet Higher Dimensions, The Better.

For The Understanding Of A Picture A Chair Is Needed. Why A Chair? To Prevent The Legs, As They Tire, From Interfering With The Mind