When I Die, It Will

We Have Learned Nothing.

When I Paint A Woman In An Armchair, The Armchair Is There To Show Illness And Death-or As A Protection.

Formerly Pictures Used To Move Towards Completion In Progressive Stages. Each Day Would Bring Something New. A Picture Was A Sum Of Additions. With Me, Picture Is A Sum Of Destructions. I Do A Picture, Then I Destroy It. But In The Long Run Nothing Is Lost; The Red That I Took Away From One Place Turns Up Somewhere Else.

I See For Others... In Order To Put On Canvas The Sudden Apparitions Which Come To Me.

In Art Intentions Are Not Sufficient And, As We Say In Spanish, Love Must Be Proved By Deeds And Not By Reasons. What One Does Is What Counts And Not What One Had The Intention Of Doing.