Quotes About Painting

Of these recognitions and needs, of their constantly recursive formulation and fulfillment, comes the canon. From the talismanic quickening of being which is ours when we experience, when we live the major text, the master-painting or sculpture, the necessary music, the syllabus is made.

The next morning was very cold. Benny did not want to get up at all. "No," he said, "it is so cold that I'm not going to get out of bed." Henry looked out at the ocean. "I have an idea," he said. "It's too cold outside today. Let's all stay inside and paint our birds." "Fine!" agreed Jessie. "I'll light the stove and we'll shut the barn door. It will soon be warm.

The painter does not conceive himself as existing in himself, he conceives himself as a reflection of the objects he has put into his pictures and he lives in the reflections of his pictures, a writer, a serious writer, conceives himself as existing by and in himself, he does not at all live in the reflection of his books, to write he must first of all exist in himself, but for a painter to be able to paint, the painting must first of all be done.

One of the pleasantest things those of us who write or paint do is to have the daily miracle. It does come.

In 2005, I worked as a scenic painter for a while when I was taking a break from music.

Together let us desire, conceive, and create the new structure of the future, which will embrace architecture and sculpture and painting in one unity and which will one day rise toward Heaven from the hands of a million workers like the crystal symbol of a new faith.

In a perfect world, I would be a painter. I love working with my hands. I don't get to do it as much as I like, but I am finding a way to make more time as life goes on because it's a really great outlet for me to express myself.

If I hold up a red square for 30 seconds and take it away, you will see a perfect green square. It's how the eye works. So if you want to paint a really good red painting, you have to strategically place in some green, so the eye is brought back.

I remember during the 1970 World Cup, the whole country stopped to focus on the matches. I was nine years old. I would sit in front of the radio with my father, and we would listen to the magic of football. It was like the matches were a dramatic story being told to us. It was a kind of art, in my opinion. It was like a painting or a great novel.

In my world, history comes down to language and art. No one cares much about what battles were fought, who won them and who lost them - unless there is a painting, a play, a song or a poem that speaks of the event.

Whenever I go on holiday, I like to time travel and imagine what it must have been like 500 years ago. I love the Tuscan landscape, which is reminiscent of a Claude Lorrain painting.

I sent an ex of mine an enormous oil painting of me as a housewarming gift. It was one of the most elaborate and time-consuming practical jokes I've ever done.

My music is more than me writing a flashy soul song. They're heartfelt songs about my family and true stories. I have also songs that aren't personal, but just painting a picture. I don't like being put under labels, but my music is going to continue to stay classic and timeless forever.

I've just finished my 20th book this past year and I'm working on my 21st book about the Middle East right now that I'll finish this year. And I get up early in the morning and when I get tired of the computer and tired of doing research, I walk 20 steps out to my woodshop and I either build furniture or paint paintings. I'm an artist too.

Tattooing was unto itself its very own art form, old as the hills and stranger than time. Whether in rich, far-flung resorts or condemned cottages, glamorous prestige or ragged poverty, human hearts and souls were variable and would always require painting.

I have loved enough women to know how to paint. If I had loved fewer, I would be an illustrator; if I had loved more, I would be a poet.

Libby stood at the bar like something that had been hastily added at the end of a painting that hasn't quite dried yet.

A Polish man is hired to paint lines on the highway. On the first day he paints ten miles, and his employer is amazed. On the second day he paints just five miles, and on the third day he paints only one mile of road. Disappointed, his boss asks, "What's the problem? Why are you painting less and less each day?" The Polish man replies, "Well, every day I have to walk farther and farther to get back to the paint bucket.

All I could do at school was paint and draw and that was the only time I ever passed any exam. It was the only thing I ever got right at school.

Money has lost its narrative quality the way painting did once upon a time. Money is talking to itself.

It is a matter mostly of having the time to spare from my finished paintings to put in on travelling and sketching out of doors.

One of the things I like about our contract is that you have relieved me of a great deal of personal interviewing and corresponding, among other things, which allows me a lot more time for painting.

I went to the Chicago Art Institute, which was the best painting school in the area at that time. And I took painting classes - basic elementary painting classes and drawing classes of all sorts.

At the same time I really enjoy painting flesh.