One must respect black. Nothing prostitutes it.

True art lies in a reality that is felt.

I await joyous surprises while working, an awakening of the materials that I work with and that my spirit develops.

What distinguishes the artist from the dilettante? Only the pain the artist feels. The dilettante looks only for pleasure in art.

One must respect black. Nothing prostitutes it.

My drawings inspire, and are not to be defined. They place us, as does music, in the ambiguous realm of the undetermined.

It is precisely from the regret left by the imperfect work that the next one can be born.