To Call Everything That Appears

All Our Interior World Is Reality, And That, Perhaps, More So Than Our Apparent World.

Great Art Picks Up Where Nature Ends.

Will God Or Someone Give Me The Power To Breathe My Sigh Into My Canvases, The Sigh Of Prayer And Sadness, The Prayer Of Salvation, Of Rebirth?

In Our Life There Is A Single Color, As On An Artist's Palette, Which Provides The Meaning Of Life And Art. It Is The Color Of Love.

To Call Everything That Appears Illogical, Fantasy, Fairy Tale, Or Chimera Would Be Practically To Admit Not Understanding Nature.