I think words come between the spectator and the picture.
My friends tend to be writers. I think writers and painters are really all the same-we just sit in our rooms.
When I finish a painting, it usually looks as surprising to me as to anyone else.
A painting is finished when the subject comes back, when what has caused the painting to be made comes back as an object.
I think that words are often extraneous to what I do.
I find old copies of National Gallery catalogues, which are written in the dryest possible prose, infinitely soothing.