My age and health will never allow me to realize the dream of art I've been pursuing all my life.
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.
The day is coming when a single carrot, freshly observed, will set off a revolution.
Tell me, do you think I'm going mad? I sometimes wonder, you know.
When the color achieves richness, the form attains its fullness also.
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.