My Pictures Are Made Up Of Four

A Certain Color Tones You Up. It's The Concentration Of Timbres.

I Shan't Get Free Of My Emotion By Copying The Tree Faithfully, Or By Drawing Its Leaves One By One In The Common Language, But Only After Identifying Myself With It.

You Study, You Learn, But You Guard The Original Naivete. It Has To Be Within You, As Desire For Drink Is Within The Drunkard Or Love Is Within The Lover.

Whoever Wishes To Devote Himself To Painting Should Begin By Cutting Out His Own Tongue

An Artist Is An Explorer.