I do an awful lot of thinking and dreaming about things in the past and the future - the timelessness of the rocks and the hills - all the people who have existed there. I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show.

I think a person permeates a spot, and a lost presence makes the environment timeless to me, keeps an area alive. It pulsates because of that.

I think anything like that-which is contemplative, silent, shows a person alone-people always feel sad. Is it because we've lost the art of being alone?

If it [talent] isn’t strong enough to take the gaff of real training, then it’s not worth much.