There Is No Self-portrait Of

Even When I Have To Write A Simple Letter I'm Scared Stiff As If Faced With Looming Seasickness.

If The Weather Is Good I Go Into The Nearby Wood - There I Am Painting A Small Beech Forest (in The Sun) With A Few Conifers Mixed In. This Takes Until 8 'o Clock.

I Can Paint And Draw. I Believe This Myself And A Few Other People Say That They Believe This Too. But I'm Not Certain Of Whether It's True.

There Is Nothing That Special To See When Looking At Me. I'm A Painter Who Paints Day In Day Out, From Morning Till Evening - Figure Pictures And Landscapes, More Rarely Portraits.

I Have The Gift Of Neither The Spoken Nor The Written Word, Especially If I Have To Say Something About Myself Or My Work. Whoever Wants To Know Something About Me -as An Artist, The Only Notable Thing- Ought To Look Carefully At My Pictures And Try And See In Them What I Am And What I Want To Do.