The More I Live, The More I

Lots Of People Will Protest That It's Quite Unreal And That I'm Out Of My Mind, But That's Just Too Bad

I Would Like To Paint The Way A Bird Sings.

Color Is My Day-long Obsession, Joy And Torment. To Such An Extent Indeed That One Day, Finding Myself At The Deathbed Of A Woman Who Had Been And Still Was Very Dear To Me, I Caught Myself In The Act Of Focusing On Her Temples And Automatically Analyzing The Succession Of Appropriately Graded Colors Which Death Was Imposing On Her Motionless Face.

For Me, The Subject Is Of Secondary Importance: I Want To Convey What Is Alive Between Me And The Subject.

Without The Fog, London Would Not Be A Beautiful City. It Is Fog That Gives It Its Magnificent Amplitude...its Regular And Massive Blocks Become Grandiose In That Mysterious Mantle.