You adapt yourself to the contents of the paintbox.
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.
I paint in order not to cry.
One day I will lie nowhere with an angel at my side.
A single day is enough to make us a little larger or, another time, a little smaller.
In the final analysis, a drawing simply is no longer a drawing, no matter how self-sufficient its execution may be. It is a symbol, and the more profoundly the imaginary lines of projection meet higher dimensions, the better.