“I have stopped painting. I stand in front of the easel, brush in hand, but my mind is blank. It is as if I have been struck by a strange kind of blindness.”
“What are you doing here?”All right, he was standing in front of an easel, holding a paint palette and brush. “Taxidermy?” he responded with just a touch of his own sarcasm.”
“I have seen the paintings from the air brushed by the hand of God.”
“This is the way I think I should always paint you- with a size twenty-four round brush in my hand as you coat the bristles”
“Mrs Collins brushed past me. My mind remained blank as i watched her walk down the hallway. For the first time, i missed the brain cells i'd fried.”
“When I encounter a sunrise, a painting, a woman, or an idea that makes my heart bound like a young calf, then I know I am standing in front of happiness.”