I paint flowers so they will not die.

What would I do without the absurd and the ephemeral?

No moon, sun, diamond, hands — fingertip, dot, ray, gauze, sea. pine green, pink glass, eye, mine, eraser, mud, mother, I am coming.

Sexism and racism are parallel problems. You can compare them in some ways, but they're not at all the same. But they're both symptoms inside the white male power structure.

At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can.

Nothing is absolute. Everything changes, everything moves, everything revolves, everything flies and goes away.

The only thing I know is that I paint because I need to, and I paint whatever passes through my head without any other consideration.