Throughout The Time In Which I Am

The Works Must Be Conceived With Fire In The Soul But Executed With Clinical Coolness.

What I Will No Longer Accept Is The Mediocre Life Of A Modest Little Gentleman.

The Painting Rises From The Brushstrokes As A Poem Rises From The Words. The Meaning Comes Later.

I Begin Painting And As I Paint The Picture Begins To Assert Itself, Or Suggest Itself, Under My Brush. The Form Becomes A Sign For A Woman Or A Bird As I Work... The First Stage Is Free, Unconscious... The Second Stage Is Carefully Calculated.

For Me, A Picture Should Be Like Sparks. It Must Dazzle Like The Beauty Of A Woman Or A Poem. It Must Have Radiance; It Must Be Like Those Stones Which Pyrenean Shepherds Use To Light Their Pipes.