What a splendid time Woo must have had.

You come into the world alone and you go out of the world alone yet it seems to me you are more alone while living than even going and coming.

real art is religion, a search for the beauty of God deep in all things.

Sometimes I could quit paint and take to charring. It must be fine to clean perfectly, to shine and polish and know that it could not be done better. In painting that never occurs.

I made myself into an envelope into which I could thrust my work deep, lick the flap, seal it from everybody.

There was neither horizon, cloud, nor sound; of that pink, spread silence even I had become part, belonging as much to sky as to earth.

Got a new pup. He is half griffon. The other half is mistake.