I never paint dreams or nightmares. I paint my own reality.

Can one invent verbs? I want to tell you one: I sky you, so my wings extend so large to love you without measure.

Painting completed my life.

I paint flowers to prevent them from dying

Since my subjects have always been my sensations, my states of mind and the profound reactions that life has been producing in me, I have frequently objectified all this in figures of myself, which were the most sincere and real thing that I could do in order to express what I felt inside and outside of myself.

To trap one's self-suffering is to risk being devoured from the inside.

Your word travels the entirety of space and reaches my cells which are my stars then goes to yours which are my light.