What My Art Probably Lacks Is A

Everything Vanishes Around Me, And Works Are Born As If Out Of The Void. Ripe, Graphic Fruits Fall Off. My Hand Has Become The Obedient Instrument Of A Remote Will.

Art Does Not Reproduce The Visible; It Makes Visible.

Reduction! One Wants To Say More Than Nature And One Makes The Impossible Mistake Of Wanting To Say It With More Means Than She, Instead Of Fewer.

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

Colour Has Taken Hold Of Me; No Longer Do I Have To Chase After It. I Know That It Has Hold Of Me Forever. That Is The Significance Of This Blessed Moment