Our seminaries today are turning out dead men.
One must act in painting as in life, directly.
You cannot go against nature. She is stronger than the strongest of men. We can permit ourselves some liberties, but in details only.
The people no longer seek consolation in art. But the refined people, the rich, the idlers seek the new, the extraordinary, the extravagant, the scandalous. I have contented these people with all the many bizarre things that come into my head. And the less they understand, the more they admire it. By amusing myself with all these games, all this nonsense, all these picture puzzles, I became famous. . . I am only a public entertainer who has understood his time.
Whatever is most abstract may perhaps be the summit of reality.
What I achieve the first day can be perfectly valid, but it is not satisfying. If I can go that far spontaneously, then I must shed that result as an old skin and inquire further into the unknown, or at least the not-yet-known-to-myself.
If I paint a hammer and sickle people may think it is a representation of Communism, but for me it is only a hammer and sickle. I just want to reproduce the objects for what they are, not for what they mean.
More people telling stories leads to more interesting perspectives in this world. I often think we wouldn't get to these political impasses if we had balance in storytelling.
We should recognize that the Lord will speak to us through the Spirit in His own time and in His own way.
Words often spoil a moment of judgment or excitement; in all great puzzles and wars and movements, there is a moment to speak and a moment to accept with silent dignity.
A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.