No One Is An Artist Unless He

Color Is My Day-long Obsession, Joy And Torment.

Nothing In The Whole World Is Of Interest To Me But My Painting And My Flowers.

I Waited For The Idea To Consolidate, For The Grouping And Composition Of Themes To Settle Themselves In My Brain.

I Perhaps Owe Having Become A Painter To Flowers.

No One But Myself Knows The Anxiety I Go Through And The Trouble I Give Myself To Finish Paintings Which Do Not Satisfy Me And Seem To Please So Very Few Others.