For me there is no difference between art and life.

I've not been cursed with talent, which could be a great inhibitor.

You have to have the time to feel sorry for yourself in order to be a good abstract expressionist.

Very quickly a painting is turned into a facsimile of itself when one becomes so familiar with with it that one recognizes it without looking at it.

There was a whole language that I could never make function for myself in relationship to painting, and that was attitudes like tortured, struggle, pain.

I used to think of that line in Allen Ginsberg's 'Howl', about the 'sad cup of coffee'.. ..I have had cold coffee and hot coffee and lousy coffee, But I've never had a sad cup of coffee.

This is a portrait of Iris Clert if I say so.