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A picture is a poem without words.
A picture is a poem without words.
Vain is the hope by colouring to display
The bright effulgence of the noontide ray
Or paint read more
Vain is the hope by colouring to display
The bright effulgence of the noontide ray
Or paint the full-orb'd ruler of the skies
With pencils dipt in dull terrestrial dyes.
Every time I paint a portrait I lose a friend.
Every time I paint a portrait I lose a friend.
As certain as the Correggiosity of Correggio.
As certain as the Correggiosity of Correggio.
Painting with all its technicalities, difficulties, and peculiar
ends, is nothing but a noble and expressive language, invaluable
read more
Painting with all its technicalities, difficulties, and peculiar
ends, is nothing but a noble and expressive language, invaluable
as the vehicle of thought, but by itself nothing.
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
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?
The only good copies are those which exhibit the defects of bad
originals.
The only good copies are those which exhibit the defects of bad
originals.
The fellow mixes blood with his colors.
The fellow mixes blood with his colors.
