A simple line painted with the brush can lead to freedom and happiness.

What I will no longer accept is the mediocre life of a modest little gentleman.

Throughout the time in which I am working on a canvas I can feel how I am beginning to love it, with that love which is born of slow comprehension.

I begin painting and as I paint the picture begins to assert itself, or suggest itself, under my brush. The form becomes a sign for a woman or a bird as I work... The first stage is free, unconscious... the second stage is carefully calculated.

Painting or poetry is made as one makes love - a total embrace, prudence thrown to the winds, nothing held back.

I want to assassinate painting.

More important than a work of art itself is what it will sow. Art can die, a painting can disappear. What counts is the seed.