I don't love the drawings of forty-year-old children.

I don't love can grass and tree trunks like stove pipes;

I also don't like women with boxer hands;

I don't like either some upsidedown landscapes or mud skies or stone flowers .

I don't taste alcool, I hate cocaine,

and also the spoiled and heavy air of the worldly or bourgeois meetings make me to feel sick.

He who shouts doesn't persuade me and I'm suspicious of each resounding word,

but I don't want to close myself into a short ambitus;

I'm not and I won't become expert in dead natures.

I painted them with studious love, easy experiments, sincere, of an art

which is sure of the deep truth hidden into simple things, which I do like best.

I love the new green in spring,

I love well built houses  to protect our life,

I love beautiful and not beautiful women, but with their eyes and nose where God put them,

I love the apples that are apples and not pumpkins,

and pumpkins that are not deformed melons,

I love the dewy drop that brights on the rose petal;

and I follow my nature, and I feed myself of my fervour.

I don't claim it to genius; and therefore I feel well, and my life is quiet, working in peace,

and I have all the ease of enjoy me reflexes of a velvet;