I never decided at all to be an artist; being an artist seems to have happened to me.

the capacity to work feeds on itself and has its own course of development. This is what artists have going for them.

I have slowly come to realize that a family is composed of people who are teaching one another.

January is my favorite month, when the light is plainest, least colored. And I like the feeling of beginnings.

Generosity is often the stalking horse of control.

I have been flooded with color on the inside, drab on the outside.

I have no home but me.