More Important Than A Work

I Work Like A Labourer On A Farm Or In A Vineyard. Things Come To Me Slowly. My Vocabulary Of Forms, For Instance, Has Not Been The Discovery Of A Day. It Took Shape In Spite Of Myself... That Is Why I Am Always Working On A Hundred Different Things At The Same Time.

As Regards My Means Of Expression, I Try My Hardest To Achieve The Maximum Of Clarity, Power, And Plastic Aggressiveness; A Physical Sensation To Begin With, Followed Up By An Impact On The Psyche.

Throughout The Time In Which I Am Working On A Canvas I Can Feel How I Am Beginning To Love It, With That Love Which Is Born Of Slow Comprehension.

The Spectacle Of The Sky Overwhelms Me. Im Overwhelmed When I See, In An Immense Sky, The Crescent Of The Moon, Or The Sun. There, In My Pictures, Tiny Forms In Huge Empty Spaces. Empty Spaces, Empty Horizons, Empty Plains - Everything Which Is Bare Has Always Greatly Impressed Me.

Art Class Was Like A Religious Ceremony To Me. I Would Wash My Hands Carefully Before Touching Paper Or Pencils. The Instruments Of Work Were Sacred Objects To Me.