The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider’s web. That is why we must not discriminate between things. Where things are concerned there are no class distinctions. We must pick out what is good for us where we can fing it – except from our own works. I have a horror of copying myself. But when I am shown a portfolio of old drawings for instance, I have no qualms about taking anyting I want from them.