Failure is my best friend. If I succeeded, it would be like dying. Maybe worse.

Once the object has been constructed, I have a tendency to rediscover in it, transformed and displaced, images, impressions, facts which have deeply moved me (often without my knowing it).

All the art of the past rises up before me, the art of all ages and all civilizations, everything becomes simultaneous, as if space had replaced time. Memories of works of art blend with affective memories, with my work, with my whole life.

The one thing that fills me with enthusiasm is to try, despite everything, to get nearer to those visions that seem so hard to express.

If I see everything in gray, and in gray all the colors which I experience and which I would like to reproduce, then why should I use any other color?

The more I work, the more I see things differently, that is, everything gains in grandeur every day, becomes more and more unknown, more and more beautiful. The closer I come, the grander it is, the more remote it is.

The head is what matters. The rest of the body plays the part of antennae making life possible for people and life itself is inside the skull.