What is a face, really? Its own photo? Its make-up? Or is it a face as painted by such or such painter? That which is in front? Inside? Behind? And the rest? Doesn’t everyone look at himself in his own particular way? Deformations simply do not exist.
Source:Midis avec Picasso by Anatole Jakovsky, in Arts de France (Paris, 1946), no. 6; Picasso on Art: A Selection of Views (1972), Page 110
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