I loathe my own face, and I've done self-portraits because I've had nobody else to do.
We cannot command Nature except by obeying her.
Out of monuments, names, words proverbs ...and the like, we do save and recover somewhat from the deluge of time.
You could say that I have no inspiration, that I only need to paint.
None of the affections have been noted to fascinate and bewitch but envy.
I like, you may say, the glitter and colour that comes from the mouth, and I've always hoped in a sense to be able to paint the mouth like Monet painted a sunset.