I Think Only Of My

The Only Merit I Have Is To Have Painted Directly From Nature With The Aim Of Conveying My Impressions In Front Of The Most Fugitive Effects.

If Only The Weather Would Improve, There'd Be Hope Of Some Work, But Every Day Brings Rain.

Colors Pursue Me Like A Constant Worry. They Even Worry Me In My Sleep.

I'm Very Happy, Very Delighted. I'm Setting To Like A Fighting Cockerel, For I'm Surrounded Here By All That I Love.

While Adding The Finishing Touches To A Painting Might Appear Insignificant, It Is Much Harder To Do Than One Might Suppose.