The Life Of An Artist Is Like

Since A Three-dimensional Object Casts A Two-dimensional Shadow, We Should Be Able To Imagine The Unknown Four-dimensional Object Whose Shadow We Are. I For My Part Am Fascinated By The Search For A One-dimensional Object That Casts No Shadow At All.

Art Has The Lovely Habit Of Ruining All Artistic Theories.

To All Appearances The Artist Acts Like A Mediumistic Being Who, From The Labyrinth Beyond Time And Space, Seeks His Way Out To A Clearing. If We Give The Attributes Of A Medium To The Artist, We Must Then Deny Him The State Of Consciousness On The Aesthetic Plane About What He Is Doing Or Why He Is Doing It. All This Decisions In The Artistic Execution Of The Work Rest With Pure Intuition And Cannot Be Translated Into A Self-analysis, Spoken Or Written, Or Even Thought Out.

I Was Poking Fun At Myself Most Of All.

I've Decided That Art Is A Habit-forming Drug. That's All It Is, For The Artist, For The Collector, For Anybody Connected With It.