Art seems to me to be above all a state of soul. All souls are sacred, the soul of all the bipeds in every quarter of the globe.
Great art picks up where nature ends.
Will God or someone give me the power to breathe my sigh into my canvases, the sigh of prayer and sadness, the prayer of salvation, of rebirth?
What a genius, that Picasso. It is a pity he doesn't paint.
Only love interests me, and I am only in contact with things that revolve around love.
I work in whatever medium likes me at the moment.