Nature Is A Mere Pretext

Poetry Is To A Painting What Life Is To Man.

I Thought That From The Moment Someone Else Could Do The Same As Myself, There Was No Difference Between The Pictures And They Should Not Be Signed. Afterwards I Realized It Was Not So And Began To Sign My Pictures Again. Picasso Had Begun Again Anyhow.

Truth Exists; Only Lies Are Invented.

I Realized That One Cannot Reveal Oneself Without Mannerism, Without Some Evident Trace Of One's Personality. But All The Same One Should Not Go Too Far In That Direction.

A Painting Without Something Disturbing In It – What's That?.