If you speak of beauty, you are at once suspected of...kitsch.

Painting what I experience, translating what I feel, is a great liberation. But it is also work, self-examination, consciousness, criticism, struggle.

One must always draw, draw with the eyes, when one cannot draw with a pencil.

I always feel the desire to look for the extraordinary in ordinary things; to suggest, not to impose, to leave always a slight touch of mystery in my paintings.

The craft of painting has virtually disappeared. There is hardly anyone left who really possesses it. For evidence one has only to look at the painters of this century.

I had only planned to strike the gong violently in order to somehow shake people up and make them more aware. I think I succeeded.

I refuse to confide and don't like it when people write about art.