Do You Think It's Possible To Discuss

I'd Rather Be Running The Game Than Playing It.

There Was A Sergeant At A Desk. I Knew He Was A Sergeant Because I Recognized The Marks On His Uniform, And I Knew It Was A Desk Because It's Always A Desk. There's Always Someone At A Desk, Except When It's A Table That Functions As A Desk. You Sit Behind A Desk, And Everyone Knows You're Supposed To Be There, And That You're Doing Something That Involves Your Brain. It's An Odd, Special Kind Of Importance. I Think Everyone Should Get A Desk; You Can Sit Behind It When You Feel Like You Don't Matter.

The Tools Are Real. The Viewer Is Real, You, The Artist, Is Real And A Part Of Everything You Paint. You Connect Yourself To The Viewer By Sharing Something That Is Inside Of You That Connects With Something Inside Of Him. All You Have As Your Guide Is That You Know What Moves You. All You Have To Do It With Is A Brush, Some Chemical And Canvas, And Technique.

Can You Be Serious For Two Words?" "not Without Effort.

That's What Does It-- That Moment Where You Think You're Lost, And Then Discover That You're Not, That You've Never Really Left. There's Something That Happens In That Incredible Tiny No-time, And That Something Is Like The Revelation Of Learning.