Well, I've always been interested in approaching a big city in a train, and I can't exactly describe the sensations, but they're entirely human and perhaps have nothing to do with aesthetics.
Maybe I am not very human - what I wanted to do was to paint sunlight on the side of a house.
My aim in painting has always been the most exact transcription possible of my most intimate impression of nature.
I have tried to present my sensations in what is the most congenial and impressive form possible to me.
If the technical innovations of the Impressionists led merely to a more accurate representation of nature, it was perhaps of not much value in enlarging their powers of expression.
It's to paint directly on the canvas without any funny business, as it were, and I use almost pure turpentine to start with, adding oil as I go along until the medium becomes pure oil. I use as little oil as I can possibly help, and that's my method.
I use a retouching varnish which is made in France, Libert, and that's all the varnish I use.
I find linseed oil and white lead the most satisfactory mediums.
There will be, I think, an attempt to grasp again the surprise and accidents of nature and a more intimate and sympathetic study of its moods, together with a renewed wonder and humility on the part of such as are still capable of these basic reactions.
This direction is sterile and without hope to those who wish to give painting a richer and more human meaning and a wider scope.