My Will Exceeds My Talents.

My Fear Of Life Is Necessary To Me, As Is My Illness. Without Anxiety And Illness, I Am A Ship Without A Rudder. My Art Is Grounded In Reflections Over Being Different From Others. My Sufferings Are Part Of My Self And My Art. They Are Indistinguishable From Me, And Their Destruction Would Destroy My Art. I Want To Keep Those Sufferings

Any Number Of Holier-than-thou Honorable Realists Walk Around In The Belief That They Have Accomplished Something, Simply Because They Tell You For The Hundredth Time That A Field Is Green And A Red-painted House Is Painted Red.

And I Would Often Wake Up At Night And Stare Widely Into The Room: Am I In Hell?

Just As Leonardo Da Vinci Studied Human Anatomy And Dissected Corpses, So I Try To Dissect Souls.

If What You Want To Paint Is The Emotive Mood In All Its Strength... Then You Must Not Sit And Stare At Everything And Depict It Exactly As One Sees It.