If I Were Called Upon To Define

Personally I Would Like To Have Pupils, A Studio, Pass On My Love To Them, Work With Them, Without Teaching Them Anything.. ..a Convent, A Monastery, A Phalanstery Of Painting Where One Could Train Together.. ..but No Programme, No Instruction In Painting.. ..drawing Is Still Alright, It Doesn't Count, But Painting - The Way To Learn Is To Look At The Masters, Above All At Nature, And To Watch Other People Painting.

I Should Have Wished To Possess The Intellectual Equilibrium That Characterizes You And Permits You To Achieve Without Fail The Desired End... Chance Has Not Favoured Me With An Equal Self-assurance, It Is The Only Regret I Have About Things Of This Earth.

All The Theories Mess You Up Inside.

The Artist Must Scorn All Judgment That Is Not Based On An Intelligent Observation Of Character. He Must Beware Of The Literary Spirit Which So Often Causes A Painting To Deviate From Its True Path - The Concrete Study Of Nature - To Lose Itself All Too Long In Intangible Speculations.

I'd Like To Combine Melancholy And Sunshine... There's A Sadness In Provence Which No One Has Expressed... I'd Like To Put Reason In The Grass And Tears In The Sky, Like Poussin.