I paint a woman's big rounded buttocks so that I want to reach out and stroke the dimpled flesh.

Every child has the spirit of creation. The rubbish of life often exterminates the spirit through plague and a souls own wretchedness.

Painting a young maiden is similar to cavorting with great abandon. It is the finest refreshment.

My passion comes from the heavens, not from earthly musings.

I'm just a simple man standing alone with my old brushes, asking God for inspiration.

Each morning I shoo the beggars and cripples from my door stoop. If God wanted these vermin to eat surely he would provide them with substance.