To paint is to love again. It’s only when we look with eyes of love that we see as the painter sees. She is a love, moreover, which is free of possessiveness. What the painter sees she is duty-bound to share. Usually she makes us see and feel what ordinarily we ignore or are immune to. Her manner of approaching the world tells us, in effect, that nothing is a vile or hideous, nothing is stale, flat and unpalatable unless it be our own power of vision. To see is not merely to look. One must look – see. See into and around. -Henry Miller