Perhaps somewhere, someplace deep inside your being, you have undergone important changes while you were sad.

Love and death are the great gifts that are given to us; mostly they are passed on unopened.

You darkness, that I come from, I love you more than all the fires that fence in the world, for the fire makes a circle of light for everyone, and then no one outside learns of you. But the darkness pulls in everything: shapes and fires, animals and myself, how easily it gathers them! - powers and people - and it is possible a great energy is moving near me. I have faith in nights.

My art is representational by choice....if the art of painting is to survive, it must describe and express people, their lives and times. It must communicate.

Ah, not to be cut off, not through the slightest partition shut out from the law of the stars. The inner -- what is it? if not the intensified sky, hurled through with birds and deep with the winds of homecoming.

So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp.

Irony: Don't let yourself be controlled by it, especially during uncreative moments.