Art Has The Lovely Habit Of Ruining

Art Has Absolutely No Existence As Veracity, As Truth.

If A Shadow Is A Two-dimensional Projection Of The Three-dimensional World, Then The Three-dimensional World As We Know It Is The Projection Of The Four-dimensional Universe.

The Life Of An Artist Is Like The Life Of A Monk, A Lewd Monk If You Like, Very Rabelaisian. It Is An Ordination.

The Creative Act Is Not Performed By The Artist Alone; The Spectator Brings The Work In Contact With The External World By Deciphering And Interpreting Its Inner Qualifications And Thus Adds His Contribution To The Creative Act.

As Soon As We Start Putting Our Thoughts Into Words And Sentences Everything Gets Distorted, Language Is Just No Damn Good—i Use It Because I Have To, But I Don’t Put Any Trust In It. We Never Understand Each Other.