There is only one thing in art that counts:
the thing one can’t explain.
It’s precisely what one cannot talk about.
Picasso and I
have said things to one another
that no one will ever say again,
We have been a pair of climbers
roped together.
We’ve had difficulty recognizing our own pictures.
And then, later, with deeper revelations,
differences appeared.
The relationship between a man and what he does:
that’s what is good
and touches us.
It is a matter of rapports, of rhythm
and of metamorphosis.
You see,
I’ve made a great discovery.
I no longer have belief in anything.
Objects don’t exist for me
except as a rapport exists between them
or between them and myself.
I no longer need the sun,
I take my light with me.
From the words of Georges Braque
Linda Frye Burnham 2011