Landscapes can be deceptive. Sometimes a landscape seems to be less a setting for the life of its inhabitants than a curtain behind which their struggles, achievements and accidents takes place. For those who are behind the curtain, landmarks are no longer only geographic but also biographical and personal

Drawing is a way of coming upon the connection between things, just like metaphor in poetry reconnects what has become separated.

The animal has secrets which, unlike the secrets of caves, mountains, seas are specifically addressed to man.

For the artist, drawing is discovery. And that is not just a slick phrase; it is quite literally true.

Traditional Chinese art looked at the Earth from a Confucian mountain top; Japanese art looked closely around screens; Italian Renaissance art surveyed conquered nature through the window or door-frame of a palace. For the Cro-Magnons, space is a metaphysical arena of continually intermittent appearances and disappearances.

Ours is the century of enforced travel of disappearances. The century of people helplessly seeing others, who were close to them, disappear over the horizon.

Emigration, forced or chosen, across national frontiers or from village to metropolis, is the quintessential experience of our time.