I have a piece of great and sad news to tell you: I am dead.
A true photographer is as rare as a true poet or a true painter.
Art is science in the flesh.
People seek escape in myth by any means at their disposal, including drugs, alcohol, meditation, and lies.
Artists can no more speak about their work, than plants can speak about horticulture.
Every poem is a coat of arms. It must be deciphered. How much blood, how many tears in exchange for these axes, these muzzles, these unicorns, these torches, these towers, these martlets, these seedlings of stars and these fields of blue!