From the root, the sap rises up into the artist, flows through him, flows to his eye. Overwhelmed and activated by the force of the current, he conveys his vision into his work. And yet, standing at his appointed place as the trunk of the tree, he does nothing other than gather and pass on what rises from the depths. He neither serves nor commands he transmits. His position is humble. And the beauty at the crown is not his own; it has merely passed through him.

To emphasize only the beautiful seems to me to be like a mathematical system that only concerns itself with positive numbers.

It is the artistic mission to penetrate as far as may be toward that secret ground where primal law feeds growth.

Art does not reproduce the visible; it makes visible.

I paint in order not to cry.

He neither serves nor rules, he transmits. His position is humble and the beauty at the crown is not his own. He is merely a channel.

Make chance essential.