The Greatest Mystery Of All Is Reality.

My Figures Come And Go, Suggested By Fortune Or Misfortune. I Try To Fix Them Divested Of Their Apparent Accidental Quality.

The Metaphysics Of Substance. The Strange Feeling Which Comes Over Us When We Sense: This Is Skin - This Is Bone - All In A Single Vision That Is Completely Unearthly. The Dreaminess Of Our Existence Mixed At The Same Time With The Indescribably Sweet Illusion Of Reality.

In Principle, Any Abstraction Of The Object Is Allowed Which Has A Sufficiently Strong Creative Power Behind It.

The Individual Representation Of The Object, Treated Sympathetically Or Antipathetically, Is Highly Necessary And Is An Enrichment To The World In Form. The Elimination Of The Human Relationship Causes The Vacuum Which Makes All Of Us Suffer In Various Degrees - An Individual Alteration Of The Details Of The Object Represented Is Necessary In Order To Display On The Canvas The Whole Physicals Reality.

As A Painter, Cursed Or Blessed With A Terrible And Vital Sensuousness, I Must Look For Wisdom With My Eyes. I Repeat, With My Eyes, For Nothing Could Be More Ridiculous Or Irrelevant Than A 'philosophical Conception Painted Purely Intellectually Without The Terrible Fury Of The Senses Grasping Each Visible Form Of Beauty And Ugliness.