The landscape thinks itself in me and I am its consciousness.
When I judge art, I take my painting and put it next to a God made object like a tree or flower. If it clashes, it is not art.
Painting is founded on the heart controlled by the head.
I have sworn to die painting.
Monet is only an eye, but my God, what an eye!
The clear French landscape is as pure as a verse of Racine.