The painting is not on a surface, but on a plane which is imagined. It moves in a mind. It is not there physically at all. It is an illusion, a piece of magic, so that what you see is not what you see.

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?

To paint is a possessing rather than a picturing.

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.

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

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

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