Drink To Me. Drink To

Art Is A Finger Up The Bourgeoisie Ass.

You Can Go To The Moon Or Walk Under The Sea, Or Anything Else You Like, But Painting Remains Painting Because It Eludes Such Investigation. It Remains There Like A Question. And It Alone Gives The Answer.

Do You Think It Interests Me That This Painting Represents Two Figures? These Two Figures Existed, They Exist No More. The Sight Of Them Gave Me An Initial Emotion, Little By Little Their Real Presence Grew Indistinct They Became A Fiction For Me, Then They Disappeared, Or Rather, Were Turned Into Problems Of All Kinds. For Me They Are No Longer Two Figures But Shapes And Colours, Don't Misunderstand Me, Shapes And Colours, Though, That Sum Up The Idea Of The Two Figures And Preserve The Vibration Of Their Existence.

I Have A Real Passion For Bones. I Have Many Others In Boisgeloup: Skeletons Of Birds, Dog's And Sheep's Heads. I Even Have A Rhinoceros Skull.

A Painter Paints To Unload Himself Of Feelings And Visions.