It all happened so fast. Someone slammed the brakes and there was no way to go, just straight into it.
Don't get the green disease of envy. Don't be fooled by success and money. Don't let anything come between you and your work.
A work of art doesn't have to be explained.
My art is a form of restoration in terms of my feelings to myself and to others.
If you flatter me, or if you look at me the right way, I will kill myself to please you. It's very painful to be an overachiever.
My mother was a restorer, she repaired broken things. I don't do that. I destroy things. I cannot go the straight line. I must destroy, rebuild, destroy again. My rhythm is not the same. My mother moved in a straight line: I go from one extreme to the other.
You must put the essence of what you want to say into a painting. The rest is arbitrary. Chosen with discernment, but chosen, and choice involves elimination.
I'm a pretty informal guy. I ride a Harley.
The threat of terrorism is great and with today's porous borders, someone could bring a biological weapon into our country or sneak a dirty bomb across unmanned portions of our borders.
Given enough time, you could convince yourself that loneliness was something better, that it was solitude, the ideal condition for reflection, even a kind of freedom. Once you were thus convinced, you were foolish to open the door and let anyone in, not all the way in. You risked the hard-won equilibrium, that tranquility that you called peace
The thunder of love is unassailable.