Space, And Space Again, Is

The Greatest Mystery Of All Is Reality.

The World Is Rather Shot To Pieces [end Of World War Ii - 1945], But The Spectators Climb Out Of Their Caves And Pretend To Have Again Become Normal And Customary Humans Who Ask Each Other's Pardon Instead Of Eating One Another Or Sucking Each Other's Blood. The Entertaining Folly Of War Evaporates, Distinguished Boredom Sits Down Again On The Dignified Old Overstuffed Chairs.. .may I Report About Myself That I Have Had A Truly Grotesque Time, Brim-full With Work, Nazi Persecutions, Bombs, Hunger, And Again And Again Work - In Spite Of Everything [a. O. Using His Bed Sheets As Canvas For The New Paintings].

I Am Seeking For The Bridge Which Leans From The Visible To The Invisible Through Reality.

I Passed Blindly Many Things Which Belong To Real And Political Life.

I Believe The Reason I Love Painting So Much Is That It Forces One To Be Objective.