I make pictures and someone comes in and calls it art.

I have to change to stay the same.

Once, after finishing a picture, I thought I would stop for awhile, take a trip, do things-the next time I thought of this, I found five years had gone by.

Every so often, a painter has to destroy painting. Cezanne did it, Picasso did it with Cubism. Then Pollock did it. He busted our idea of a picture all to hell. Then there could be new paintings again.

Style is a fraud. I always felt the Greeks were hiding behind their columns.

The drawings that interest me most are made with closed eyes. With eyes closed, I feel my hand slide down on the paper. I have an image in mind, but the results always surprise me.

What you do when you paint, you take a brush full of paint, get paint on the picture, and you have faith.