I have not been able to see a bit of sea or any water at all; everything is frozen and covered with snow. - Claude Monet

You'll understand... that I'm chasing the merest sliver of color. It's my own fault, I want to grasp the intangible. It's terrible how the light runs out, taking color with it. Color, any color, lasts a second, sometimes three of four minutes at the most.

I climb up, go down again, then climb up once more; between all my studies, as a relaxation I explore every footpath, always curious to see something new.

Color is my day-long obsession, joy and torment. To such an extent indeed that one day, finding myself at the deathbed of a woman who had been and still was very dear to me, I caught myself in the act of focusing on her temples and automatically analyzing the succession of appropriately graded colors which death was imposing on her motionless face.