“I never paint dreams or nightmares. I paint my own reality.”

My painting carries with it the message of pain.

They thought I was a Surrealist, but I wasn’t. I never painted dreams. I painted my own reality.

Take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are a bourbon biscuit.

I hope the leaving is joyful; and I hope never to return.

Sexism and racism are parallel problems. You can compare them in some ways, but they’re not at all the same. But they’re both symptoms inside the white male power structure.

At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can.

I am that clumsy human, always loving, loving, loving. And loving. And never leaving.

I leave you my portrait so that you will have my presence all the days and nights that I am away from you.

What I wanted to express very clearly and intensely was that the reason these people had to invent or imagine heroes and gods is pure fear. Fear of life and fear of death.

I drank to drown my sorrows, but the damned things learned how to swim.

I wish I could do whatever I liked behind the curtain of madness.

People in general are scared to death of the war and all the exhibition have been a failure, because the rich – don’t want to buy anything.

I think that little by little I’ll be able to solve my problems and survive.

I want a storm to come and flood us into a song that no one wrote.

Pain, pleasure and death are no more than a process for existence. The revolutionary struggle in this process is a doorway open to intelligence.

I am not sick. I am broken. But I am happy to be alive as long as I can paint.

Jesus comes for sinners, for those outcast and those caught up in squalid choices and failed dreams.

I won’t let others stoke fear in my heart. I choose to remain true to who I am and where my dreams direct me no matter the hardship I might incur. I remember it always: Fear wins or Freedom wins, and I choose Freedom.

The adolescents of my generation, greedy for life, forgot in body and soul about their hopes for the future until reality taught them that tomorrow was not what they had dreamed, and they discovered nostalgia.

Delve deeper into your dreams to capture the visualized, yet unseen.

It is not true that people stop pursuing dreams because they grow old, they grow old because they stop pursuing dreams.

People suffer when they pursue a life or chase a dream that doesn’t belong to them.

Someone you haven’t met yet is already dreaming of adoring you.

I want to shine like a little candle before His altar.