My whole life has been spent walking by the side of a bottomless chasm, jumping from stone to stone. Somtimes I try to leave my narrow path and join the swirling mainstream of life, but I always find myself drawn inexorably back towards the chasm's edge, and there I shall walk until the day I finally fall into the abyss. For as long as I can remember I have suffered from a deep feeling of anxiety which I have tried to express in my art. Without anxiety and illness I should have been like a ship without a rudder.
No longer shall I paint interiors with men reading and women knitting. I will paint living people who breathe and feel and suffer and love.
The camera cannot compete with the brush and the palette so long as it cannot be used in heaven or hell.
From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.