I think that when one speaks about something, you have to see the thing one speaks about, not just the speaker. My aim is to be able to render all things I can see or I am related to. Not only a mere leaf of grass or a tree, but the whole grass, all the trees. Painter’s work is not a goal, but a way, it is a means to praise the order of life, the ordered life. It is important how much you are gifted, how much you can concentrate, how much you can understand the things you can see. And never wish to be otherwise or different than you are. I have always studied what the forerunners had done, I have been concerned with durable things, things which let me be myself. That is why I try to use precursor’s experience without searching for something new at all costs, even if positive, while considering thoroughly as much as possible what I do. I feel like going on the solid ground of tradition, knowing that in each moment I walk on something firm. I should like that all I do could be understood by people like my parents…​

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The painter and the gardener, the painter and the palette, the gardener and the garden…all together. The gardener. He regards the ground, he regards the soul. Tilling. The good ground. He learns. Let him not look at the body, for it is transient, but let him take care of the soul, of the immortal. Heaven and earth, body and soul together. As in heaven, as in earth. The inner regard towards the sky. Soothing. The cell. Stay in your cell and pray. Stay in your garden and till. The immortal thing. It inspires you. Submission and sight. Composition. I draw. As a rule, I find out that I stammer. Drawn things are not definitive things. That is why you never draw alike. It does not define. In other words, drawing draws the indefinite. The boundless.

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As much as I can understand, painting is a place and a way for a submissive worker, for an apprentice, for a house painter the way Luchian used to be, steadfast in forerunners’ experience, settled in peace, patient and loving, intent, hardworking, cheerful, sometimes sad, but always confident, like the hero of the fairy tale who enjoys eternal youth and eternal life, ignores all the obstacles on his road towards light, keeps far from any opinion. It does me good to work, I can enjoy with the few who are willing to believe and work. A student. More and more. Because if I were to choose between charcoal and india rubber, my most important instrument is the rubber. It gives my work security and confidence. I can erase and start anew, I learn to draw the way I learn to write. I discover that I know so little. Jug without handle. The newborn, in its weakness, has the whole house under his hand. It does not know how powerful it is. Love. Profusion and beauty…