In my experience a painting is not made with colors and paint at all. I don't know what a painting is; who knows what sets off even the desire to paint?

Look at any inspired painting. It's like a gong sounding; it puts you in a state of reverberation.

Frustration is one of the great things in art. Satisfaction is nothing.

It is possible to make a living thing, not a diagram of what I have been thinking: to posit with paint something living, something that changes each day.

More than a process, painting is being possessed.

Painting and sculpture are very archaic forms. It's the only thing left in our industrial society where an individual alone can make something with not just his own hands, but brains, imagination, heart maybe.

There is something mysterious in this work that I do not ever what to discover.