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Sheree' Gay

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“As I picked up the pieces, it became apparent that she was a narcissist, who took pleasure in breaking down this beautiful self I built up with much care. A damaged and misguided empath, she used her emotional intelligence to manipulate those around her, living multiple lies and pumping up her fake public image. I can only hope that she heals and finds herself one day and that her victims survive her.”

“¿Qué es lo que quiere, pues? ¿Se puede querer a una persona a la que no se conoce, de la que nada se sabe? Debe de ser una idea fija la que quiere: la hija que llega a ser lo que él desea y de la cual puede estar orgulloso un día: una chica culta, educadita, distinguida, una persona valiosa que cree en el bien y estudia filosofía. ¡Pues está muy equivocado! Me he convertido justo en lo contrario, y no importa si por mi culpa o sin ella. De manera que el reencuentro habría sido una decepción enorme, decepción que ahora nos ahorramos todos.”

“You might as well get one thing straight. I'm not an abstractionist... I'm not interested in the relationships of color or form or anything else. I'm interested only in expressing basic human emotions—tragedy, ecstasy, doom and so on. And the fact that a lot of people break down and cry when confronted with my pictures show that I communicate those basic human emotions... The people who weep before my pictures are having the same religious experience I had when I painted them. And if you, as you say, are moved only by their color relationships then you miss the point.”

“Do you remember the first time I met you?, In June in the bleak of winter. I looked at you at an acute angle, your eyes glued at Mark Rothko painting, I told you I am a fun of his painting, I told you how he committed suicide, I told you how he saw the world and you said I am speaking lies, you said I must work more on my dating skills, you said people who love painting are lacking romance, you told me people obsessed in painting are lacking emotions.... I told you I had found you statue glued thus means you slot the same line with me. You live in my light and compliment my deaths.....”