Johns Hopkins introduced me to two defining events in my life: commitment to biomedical research and meeting my future wife, Mary.
An opening and a receptiveness to design and pattern for its own sake seems to free the painting hand.
Our bodies, apart from their brilliant role as drawing exercises, are the temples of our being. Like the bodies of all fauna, they deserve both our study and our appreciation.
The job of art is to turn time into things.
There is a wonderful feeling when you walk into your own exhibition. You see the work as a true extension of yourself. Win or lose, your interests have led you to an accumulation of your personal expression, signed lower right, mounted to best advantage.
Pushing yourself to extremes blows out the cobwebs of trusted habit. It shakes up what you know to be reliably safe and substitutes the miracle of insecurity.
The brilliance of art as a collectible is that it has a way of reaching out on an emotional level. It touches on mystery, even spirituality.
Celebrity was a long time in coming; it will go away. Everything goes away.
One man scorned and covered with scars still strove with his last ounce of courage to reach the unreachable stars; and the world will be better for this.
I think music docs could turn off some people.
There is something about a poet which leads us to believe that he died, in many cases, as long as 20 years before his birth.