“There is always hope, as long as the canvases are empty.”

Art is a line around your thoughts.

Even when I have to write a simple letter I’m scared stiff as if faced with looming seasickness.

There is no self-portrait of me.

There is nothing that special to see when looking at me. I’m a painter who paints day in day out, from morning till evening – figure pictures and landscapes, more rarely portraits.

After tea it’s back to painting – a large poplar at dusk with a gathering storm. From time to time instead of this evening painting session I go bowling in one of the neighbouring villages, but not very often.

True relaxation, which would do me the world of good, does not exist for me.

There is nothing that special to see when looking at me.

Although even when I am being idle I have plenty of food for thought both early and late – thoughts both about and not about art.

On my first days here I did not start work immediately but, as planned, I took it easy for a few days – flicked through books, studied Japanese art a little.

I can paint and draw. I believe this myself and a few other people say that they believe this too. But I’m not certain of whether it’s true.

Whoever wants to know something about me – as an artist which alone is significant – they should look attentively at my pictures and there seek to recognise what I am and what I want.

Sometimes I miss out the morning’s painting session and instead study my Japanese books in the open.

I’m doing the shows. The stage is my canvas; I’ll put whatever up there for the visible eye.

So you packed your world up inside a canvas sack, set off down the highway with your rings and Kerouac.

What I did for my last act as a painter, if you call me a painter, was to photograph the weave of the canvas, and enlarge it and enlarge it until it became like a landscape.

To a musician or songwriter, your canvas is silence.

A painter’s got a canvas. The writer’s got reams of empty paper. A musician has silence.

There is no old Adam Young, there is no new Adam Young, merely different colors and different brushstrokes over the same canvas.

The world is your canvas and your teacher.Take a day to reflect, measure and adjust on your goals; progress is essential to continued success.

Colors live a remarkable life of their own after they have been applied to the canvas.