Life is what we make it, always has been, always will be.

I look back on my life like a good day's work, it was done and I am satisfied with it.

A strange thing is memory, and hope; one looks backward, and the other forward; one is of today, the other of tomorrow. Memory is history recorded in our brain, memory is a painter, it paints pictures of the past and of the day.

I look out the window sometimes to seek the color of the shadows and the different greens in the trees, but when I get ready to paint I just close my eyes and imagine a scene.

Painting's not important. The important thing is keeping busy.

If I hadn't started painting, I would have raised chickens.