This everyday world affects the way art is created as much as it conditions its response.

Our advanced art approaches a fragile but marvelous life, one that maintains itself by a mere thread, melting into an elusive, changeable configuration, the surroundings, the artist, his work and everyone who comes to it.

I am not so sure whether what we do now is art or something not quite art. If I call it art, it is because I wish to avoid the endless arguments some other name would bring forth.

A walk down 14th street is more amazing than any masterpiece of art.

Some of us will probably become famous. It will be an ironic fame fashioned largely by those who have never seen our work.

Doing life consciously was a compelling notion to me.

The line between art and life should be kept as fluid, and perhaps indistinct, as possible.