I think one's art goes as far and as deep as one's love goes.

If somehow I can, before I leave this earth, combine my absolutely mad freedom and excitement with truth, then I will have done something.

It's a moment that I'm after, a fleeting moment, but not a frozen moment.

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape. Something waits beneath it; the whole story doesn't show.

I think a person permeates a spot, and a lost presence makes the environment timeless to me, keeps an area alive. It pulsates because of that.

If you clean it up, get analytical, all the subtle joy and emotion you felt in the first place goes flying out the window.

I think one's art goes as far and as deep as one's love goes.