Only thought can resemble. It resembles by being what it sees, hears, or knows; it becomes what the world offers it.

Everything that is visible hides something that is invisible.

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

My painting is visible images which conceal nothing... they evoke mystery and indeed when one sees one of my pictures, one asks oneself this simple question 'What does that mean'? It does not mean anything, because mystery means nothing either, it is unknowable.

A thing which is present can be invisible, hidden by what it shows

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.

Only thought can resemble. It resembles by being what it sees, hears, or knows; it becomes what the world offers it.