If I were called upon to define briefly the word Art, I should call it the reproduction of what the senses preceive in nature, seen through the veil of the soul.

Is it the factitious and the conventional that most surely succeed on earth and in the course of life?

What I am trying to translate to you is more mysterious, it is entwined in the very roots of being, in the implacable source of sensations.

To paint is not to copy the object slavishly, it is to grasp a harmony among many relationships.

The landscape thinks itself in me and I am its consciousness.

We live in a rainbow of chaos.

You say a new era in art is preparing; you sensed it coming; continue your studies without weakening. God will do the rest.