Painting Quotes

“I dream of painting and then I paint my dream.”

“To live is to paint, it is to create; but while we are painting, we are being painted, being created as well!”

“When I look at a painting it isn't only the painting that I see but the thing that I am. If there is more in the painting than I am then I won't see it.”

“It was a tribute to Raphael that lesser artists wanted to copy his work, but this… this was a travesty. The fresco consisted of Galatea’s apotheosis, wherein she is surrounded by mythical creatures. A beautiful scene, with all the potential in the world, but very poorly executed here. Galatea herself looked vapid and empty. The rest of the painting indicated pure ignorance on the part of the painter. I shook my head in confusion. The giant Polyphemus was depicted with two normal eyes, when clearly he ought to have but one. Triton, for his horn, was using not a shell but an actual trumpet of brass. I nearly laughed aloud at that observation; would not such an instrument be completely destroyed by seawater? Who the devil had painted this monstrosity?”

“It is no use painting the foot of the tree white, the strength of the bark cries out from beneath the paint.”

“I dream my painting and then I paint my dream.”

“I dream my painting and I paint my dream.”

“Why do you paint, Nona?"...'I paint first to honor God who paints the sunsets and oceans and human hearts. And second, I paint so I don't get cranky like so many of the old people in this world.”

“After I see a painting, I go into a room, I close my eyes and I slowly escape into the beauty of the painting. I reflect on the painting, the nuances of the artwork, it's theme, mood and highlights -until the magic of the painting flashes before me.”

“To paint is to love again, live again, see again. To get up at the crack of dawn in order to take a peek at the water colors one did the day before, or even a few hours before, is like stealing a look at the beloved while she sleeps. The thrill is even greater if one has first to draw back the curtains. How they glow in the cold light of early dawn! … Is there any writer who rouses himself at daybreak in order to read the pages of his manuscript? Perish the thought!”