For me, a painting must give off sparks. It must dazzle like the beauty of a woman or a poem.

Little by little, I've reached the stage of using only a small number of forms and colors. It's not the first time that painting has been done with a very narrow range of colors. The frescoes of the tenth century are painted like this. For me, they are magnificent things.

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

I make no distinction between poetry and painting.

For me an object is something living. This cigarette or this box of matches contains a secret life much more intense than that of certain human beings.

The simplest things give me ideas.

The painting rises from the brushstrokes as a poem rises from the words. The meaning comes later.