It was in the 1920s, when nobody had time to reflect, that I saw a still-life painting with a flower that was perfectly exquisite, but so small you really could not appreciate it.

I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn't say any other way - things I had no words for.

I see no reason for painting anything that can be put into any other form as well.

There's something about black. You feel hidden away in it.

My painting is what I have to give back to the world for what the world gives to me.

Color is one of the great things in the world that makes life worth living to me and as I have come to think of painting it is my efforts to create an equivalent with paint color for the world, life as I see it.

Filling a space in a beautiful way - that is what art means to me.