I Was Driven On By..

The Artist Has To Look At Life As He Did When He Was A Child. If He Loses That Faculty, He Cannot Express Himself In An Original, That Is, A Personal Way.

I Dream Of An Art Of Balance, Of Quietness, Something Analogous To A Good Armchair.

From The Moment I Held The Box Of Colors In My Hands, I Knew This Was My Life. I Threw Myself Into It Like A Beast That Plunges Towards The Thing It Loves.

It Has Always Bothered Me That I Don't Paint Like Everyone Else

He Who Loves, Flies, Runs, And Rejoices; He Is Free And Nothing Holds Him Back.