Art = A Mad Search For Individualism.

In Order To Produce Something New, You Have To Return To The Original Source, To The Childhood Of Mankind.

Oh Mysterious World Of All Light, Thou Hast Made A Light Shine Within Me, And I Have Grown In Admiration Of Thy Antique Beauty, Which Is The Immemorial Youth Of Nature.

I Have Come To An Unalterable Decision - To Go And Live Forever In Polynesia. Then I Can End My Days In Peace And Freedom, Without Thoughts Of Tomorrow And This Eternal Struggle Against Idiots.

Color! What A Deep And Mysterious Language, The Language Of Dreams.

Life Has No Meaning Unless One Lives It With A Will, At Least To The Limit Of One's Will.