I can only draw what I see.

It is a tragedy that we live in a world where physical courage is so common, and moral courage is so rare.

My life has been nothing but a failure.

Despite my extremely modest prices, dealers and art lovers are turning their backs on me. It is very depressing to see the lack of interest shown in an art object which has no market value.

I would like to paint the way a bird sings.

All I did was to look at what the universe showed me, to let my brush bear witness to it.

What could be said about me...a man to whom only his painting matters? And of course his garden and his flowers as well.