When I meditate, many pictures come which I like to draw and become involved with(.
If pictures come it is a good release, so paint them; you continue it. Just go wild in it, and don’t paint through reason.
Don’t be worried about what you are making, because it is not a performance. It is not going to be exhibited, and you are not going to show it to anybody. It is just an outpouring.
Paint just like small children. If you give them color and crayons, they will paint, not even knowing what they are doing. It will be a natural thing: just as grass grows, and birds sing, children paint.
That is the beauty of modern painting. It is more childlike and more primitive than painting has ever been before. The classical painters were very much concerned with the form, with the geometry and mathematics of it, but the modern painter has forgotten everything and all technology has been dropped.
Modern painting is just like a child painting, and tremendously beautiful things have come up. They are meaningless, remember – beautiful, but meaningless. In fact all beauty is meaningless. Wherever meaning enters, mean-ness enters. Wherever there is reason, things become limited.
So just paint, mm? And next time you come, bring some paintings. But don’t paint with the idea that you are going to show them to me – only bring those that you have painted without any idea, just irrationally.
Just the other day I was reading about a man, a very rich man, who asked Picasso to paint his portrait. So Picasso painted it.
When the man came to see it, he said that it was good except that he didn’t like the nose – so Picasso said he would change it, and the man should return in a few days time.
Picasso became very worried, and the woman who was living with him in those days asked him what he was worrying about. He said, “I am worried because I don’t know where I have painted the nose.”
So like that, mm? Good!
I’ve got a real sense of self-disgust. I realize that all my life I’ve been trying to make myself respectable, and to give myself some kind of esteem. I’ve been going after every substitute for love – and for me love just means manipulation. I can’t take it because I’ve got this tremendous fear of being manipulated.