From the moment of my birth, the angels of anxiety, worry, and death stood at my side, followed me out when I played, followed me in the sun of springtime and in the glories of summer. They stood at my side in the evening when I closed my eyes, and intimidated me with death, hell, and eternal damnation.
My breakthrough came very late in life, really only starting when I was fifty years old. But at that time I felt as though I had the strength for new deeds and ideas.
Nature is not only what is visible to the eye, it also shows the inner images of the soul, the images on the back side of the eyes.
But can they [great works] get rid of the worm that lies gnawing at the roots of my heart? No, never.
And I would often wake up at night and stare widely into the room: Am I in Hell?
They will not get it into their heads that these paintings were created in all seriousness and in suffering, that they are the products of sleepless nights, that they have cost me blood and weakened my nerves.
In my art I have tried to explain to myself life and its meaning. I have also tried to help others to clarify their lives.
Was it because she took my first kiss, that she took away my life's breath? Was it that she lied – she deceived – that one day suddenly the scales fell from my eyes and I saw a Medusa's head and I saw life as a thing of terror.
The way one sees is also dependent upon one's emotional state of mind. This is why a motif can be looked at in so many ways, and this is what makes art so interesting.
For as long as I can remember I have suffered from a deep feeling of anxiety which I have tried to express in my art. Without anxiety and illness I should have been like a ship without a rudder.