I have painted portraits that to me are almost photographic. I remember hesitating to show the paintings, they looked so real to me. But they have passed into the world as abstractions - no one seeing what they are.
War is killing the individual in it unless he has learned livingness - if he had it he wouldn't be a good soldier.
I believe I would rather have Stieglitz like something - anything I had done - than anyone else I know.
We'd make love. Afterwards he would take photographs of me. (On modeling for Alfred Stieglitz)
I don't really know where I got my artists idea. The scraps of what I remember do not explain to me where it came from. I only know that by this time it was definitely settled in my mind.
I believe an artist is the last person in the world who can afford to be affected.
It is really so nice here-country-busy-busy with so many different kinds of things-... I must say I feel far away in another world here-... always we go to a new place...the people have a kind of gentleness that isn't usual on the mainland.
I took back a barrel of bones to New York. They were my symbols of the desert, but nothing more. I haven't seen enough to think of any other symbolism. The skulls were there and I could say something with them.
I find that I have painted my life - things happening in my life - without knowing.
When you get so that you can't see, you come to it gradually. And if you didn't come by it gradually, I guess you'd just kill yourself when you couldn't see.
I know I am unreasonable about people but there are so many wonderful people whom I can't take the time to know.
I have not worked at all... Nothing seems worth putting down - I seem to have nothing to say - it appalls me but that is the way it is.
So, probably … when I started painting the pelvis bones I was most interested in the holes in the bones — what I saw through them- particularly the blue from holding them up in the sun against the sky as one is apt to do when one seems to have more sky than earth in one’s world … they were most beautiful against the Blue — that Blue that will always be there as it is now after all man’s destruction is finished.
I don't very much enjoy looking at paintings in general. I know too much about them. I take them apart.
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