I’m very sensitive. Because my mum was my primary emotional caregiver growing up, I found myself being pinned into dresses, darting her dresses, choosing her high heels for the evening or what to wear. I’m very much a mommy’s boy.
There is no mode of action, no form of emotion, that we do not share with the lower animals. It is only by language that we rise above them, or above each other – by language, which is the parent, and not the child, of thought.
The rain came down upon my head – Unsheltered, and the heavy wind rendered me mad and deaf and blind.
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.
Let’s not forget that small emotions are the great captains of our lives, and that these we obey without knowing it.[N’oublions pas que les petites émotions sont les grands capitaines de nos vies et qu’à celles – là nous y obéissons sans le savoir.]
I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.
Fear is our deepest and strongest emotion, and the one which best lends itself to the creation of Nature-defying illusions.