" Van Gogh’s sunflowers, capturing the essence of sunlight. Picasso with his lovers of violence, explosion, decay. Rothko and his brooding, tragic visual mantras. And when I think of these gentlemen, I think of them as not just friends, but as towering figures — celestial guides, counselors of tragedy, captains of independence, liberators, violators, Gods. As close as I can come to such a notion, it is as though we had played cards one night, drank wine, chanted myths, recited poetry, gotten smashed and shared all of our secrets."

                          - from Candle In The Rib Cage: Essays on Art, Life, etc.