Talking About Dreams Is Like Talking About

What Is An Artist? A Provincial Who Finds Himself Somewhere Between A Physical Reality And A Metaphysical One... It’s This In-between That I’m Calling A Province, This Frontier Country Between The Tangible World And The Intangible One - Which Is Really The Realm Of The Artist.

Talking About Dreams Is Like Talking About Movies, Since The Cinema Uses The Language Of Dreams; Years Can Pass In A Second And You Can Hop From One Place To Another. It's A Language Made Of Image. And In The Real Cinema, Every Object And Every Light Means Something, As In A Dream.

Peellaert's Comic Strips Were The Literature Of Intelligence, Imagination And Romanticism.

According To The Doctors, I'm Only Suffering From A Light Form Of Premature Baldness.

Objects And Their Functions No Longer Had Any Significance. All I Perceived Was Perception Itself, The Hell Of Forms And Figures Devoid Of Human Emotion And Detached From The Reality Of My Unreal Environment. I Was An Instrument In A Virtual World That Constantly Renewed Its Own Meaningless Image In A Living World That Was Itself Perceived Outside Of Nature. And Since The Appearance Of Things Was No Longer Definitive But Limitless, This Paradisiacal Awareness Freed Me From The Reality External To Myself. The Fire And The Rose, As It Were, Became One.