I like subversive humor, freckles, women's knees and long hair, the laughter of playing children, and a girl running down the street.

I need to see the original paintings just as little as I have to read the original manuscripts of books.

Everything that is visible hides something that is invisible.

I detest my past, and anyone else's. I detest resignation, patience, professional heroism and obligatory beautiful feelings. I also detest the decorative arts, folklore, advertising, voices making announcements, aerodynamism, boy scouts, the smell of moth balls, events of the moment, and drunken people.

My painting is visible images that conceal nothing... they evoke mystery. Mystery means nothing. It is unknowable.

We are surrounded by curtains. We only perceive the world behind a curtain of semblance. At the same time, an object needs to be covered in order to be recognized at all.

If the dream is a translation of waking life, waking life is also a translation of the dream.