When I Stand Before A Canvas, I

Never, Never Do I Set To Work On A Canvas In The State It Comes In From The Shop. I Provoke Accidents - A Form, A Splotch Of Color. Any Accident Is Good Enough. I Let The Matiere Decide. Then I Prepare A Ground By, For Example, Wiping My Brushes On The Canvas. Letting Fall Some Drops Of Turpentine On It Would Do Just As Well. If I Want To Make A Drawing I Crumple The Sheet Of Paper Or I Wet It; The Flowing Water Traces A Line And This Line May Suggest What Is To Come Next.

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

Painting Or Poetry Is Made As One Makes Love - A Total Embrace, Prudence Thrown To The Winds, Nothing Held Back.

More Important Than A Work Of Art Itself Is What It Will Sow. Art Can Die, A Painting Can Disappear. What Counts Is The Seed.

For Me, A Painting Must Give Off Sparks. It Must Dazzle Like The Beauty Of A Woman Or A Poem.