Black and white can show how something is. Color adds how it is, imbued with temperatures and humidities of experience.

The artist is a strange being. I think it's safe to say that a real artist is conscious of having a personal singularity that is partly a blessing and partly a curse. An artist enjoys and suffers from isolation. As solitude, isolation can nurture. It can also destroy.

The aesthetic experience has to be given. And beauty is a regular experience of every person - every person who is not clinically depressed!

I think being interested is really what being civilized is about. I mean, you have to be conscious of everything.

I find that the mask of the critic is to have distance.

The problem of making artists talk about their work is that when they're making their work the left-brain is shut off. So if you talk to an artist about it, you're talking to someone who wasn't there. It's hopeless.

Beauty makes us more like ourselves and more like each other.