Viewing page 11 of 93

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

- 3 -

I feel damaged by the technological exposure, the criticism, and the financial pressures of the last fourteen years--years in which on[[crossed-out]] e [[/crossed-out]] the one hand I was twenty-six times threatened with eviction from my studio, and on the other hand held eighteen exhibitions that sold out (reasonable prices)-trying always to keep going the inner processes that lead to moments of vision. All these years there were perhaps five people--no more--whose opinions I valued, who kept me going. I have read no books on art history--not even one. My knowledge comes from personal observation of works of art.

I became friends with nature when I recognized the structure of repetition, as in the waves of the ocean or the leaves of a plant, as in certain rhythms of crystals that I had observed in the British Museum. The observation of nature -- that alone -- has taken me many years. [[crossed out]] In a sense, nature is people. Sometimes what we see in people dims our own perspective of people. I have many questions [[/crossed out]] Everything becomes a question. Have I thought of art as a way of life? Does the technological and moral world confuse me? I feel confused with morals. What establishes values? What is the one value?

I am aware of an insecurity in me. Am I second to everybody? Or to myself? I am afraid that a focus in reality might subtract from or diminish my creative myth. I feel alone and fragmented in the visual path-