Painting Seems Like Some Kind

You Know, Comments About Style Always Seem Strange To Me - 'why Do You Work In This Style, Or In That Style' - As If You Had A Choice In The Matter... What You're Doing Is Trying To Stay Alive And Continue And Not Die.

Painting Is An Illusion, A Piece Of Magic, So What You See Is Not What You See.

Do I Really Believe That? I Make A Mark, A Few Strokes, I Argue With Myself, Not Do I Like Or Not, But Is It True Or Not? Is That What I Mean, Is That What I Want?

Painting Is An Illusion, A Piece Of Magic, So What You See Is Not What You See. I Don't Know What A Painting Is; Who Knows What Sets Off Even The Desire To Paint? It Might Be Things, Thoughts, A Memory, Sensations, Which Have Nothing To Do Directly With Painting Itself. They Can Come From Anything And Anywhere.

Painting Seems Like Some Kind Of Peculiar Miracle That I Need To Have Again And Again.