What is real for me are the illusions I create with my paintings. Everything else is quicksand.
The outcome of my days is always the same; an infinite desire for what one never gets; a void one cannot fill; an utter yearning to produce in all ways, to battle as much as possible against time that drags us along, and the distractions that throw a veil over our soul.
I live in company with a body, a silent companion, exacting and eternal.
Do all the work you can; that is the whole philosophy of the good way of life.
Nature is a dictionary; one draws words from it.
The secret of not having worries, for me at least, is to have ideas.