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

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.

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

I should like to paint like an man who has never seen a painting, but this man -myself - lives in a museum.

I go to the studio everyday because one day I may go and the Angel will be there. What if I don't go and the Angel comes?