Art is, from any point of view, the greatest of risks.
No doubt, in complete abstraction one has a feeling of a great shock, if not an explosion, and in approaching the real, one feels health and truth restored.
Sometimes when looking through my pile of drawings, I find an image that... awakens in me a passionate desire to inhabit it, as though I were to feel more at home in it than in myself.
The image gets built one way or another... it doesn't get done by following the natural order of things, but arises instead from an order that you have in your mind.
Paul Klee seems to handle colors and dreams as if they both came out of a box of children's toys. He plays and dreams with whatever he finds.
Imaginations blossom amidst memories. One judiciously separates them - but is there really any point in that? Doesn't truth suffer when one amputates it from its context of dreams?
All each ism does, in its revolt against the inadequacy of the previous one, is to thoroughly upset the order of terms of this ideal entity and to bring to the fore yet another inadequacy.
You don't dream about angles and surfaces and so on. You dream about women, bread, smokes and trees.
A harmonious combination... enough abstraction that the image is sustained by the eye; enough reality that it is sustained by reason and experience. Share this quote with a friend
I understand abstract art as an attempt to feed imagination with a world built through the basic sensations of the eyes.
A mature artist is at the same time aware of the futility of his achievement and the validity of the pursuit.
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