I mix them with my brains, sir.

I mix them with my brains, sir.

I experience a period of frightening clarity in those moments when nature is so beautiful. I am no longer sure read more

I experience a period of frightening clarity in those moments when nature is so beautiful. I am no longer sure of myself, and the paintings appear as in a dream

Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.

Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.

As certain as the Correggiosity of Correggio.

As certain as the Correggiosity of Correggio.

Pictures must not be too picturesque.

Pictures must not be too picturesque.

I paint objects as I think them, not as I see them.

I paint objects as I think them, not as I see them.

The fellow mixes blood with his colors.

The fellow mixes blood with his colors.

Are we to paint what's on the face, what's inside the face, or what's behind it?

Are we to paint what's on the face, what's inside the face, or what's behind it?

From the mingled strength of shade and light
A new creation rises to my sight,
Such heav'nly read more

From the mingled strength of shade and light
A new creation rises to my sight,
Such heav'nly figures from his pencil flow,
So warm with light his blended colors glow.
. . . .
The glowing portraits, fresh from life, that bring
Home to our hearts the truth from which they spring.