If one could only reproduce nature, and always with less beauty than the original, why paint at all?

It was all so far away - there was quiet and an untouched feel to the country and I could work as I pleased.

A flower is relatively small... Still in a way-nobody sees a flower-so I said to myself-I'll paint it big.

Dearest - my body is simply crazy with wanting you - If you don't come tomorrow - I don't see how I can wait for you - I wonder if your body wants mine the way mine wants yours - the kisses - the hotness - the wetness - all melting together - the being held so tight that it hurts - the strangle and the struggle.

I don't know what Art is but I know some things it isn't when I see them.

To create one's world in any of the arts takes courage.

I wish people were all trees and I think I could enjoy them then.