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

Painting is an illusion, a piece of magic, so what you see is not what you see.

But you begin to feel as you go on working that unless painting proves its right to exist by being critical and self-judging, it has no reason to exist at all - or is not even possible. The canvas is a court where the artist is prosecutor, defendant, jury and judge. Art without a trial disappears at a glance.

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

Painting seems like some kind of peculiar miracle that I need to have again and again.

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

Painting is an illusion, a piece of magic, so what you see is not what you see. I don't know what a painting is; who knows what sets off even the desire to paint? It might be things, thoughts, a memory, sensations, which have nothing to do directly with painting itself. They can come from anything and anywhere.