One eye sees, the other feels.
Color possesses me. I don't have to pursue it. It will possess me always, I know it. That is the meaning of this happy hour: Color and I are one. I am a painter.
He has found his style, when he cannot do otherwise.
Drawing is the art of taking a line for a walk.
We construct and keep on constructing, yet intuition is still a good thing.
Everything vanishes around me, and works are born as if out of the void. Ripe, graphic fruits fall off. My hand has become the obedient instrument of a remote will.