The madness of my life in art began one evening when I was twenty-two years old. I had courted the canvas if not assiduously at least as best I knew how, and I understood inwardly that it had given me the bird. I was beginning to wonder what else I would do with my time on Earth, and then all of a sudden it was happening and I had very little say in it. My talent was a sudden thing, queer and perpendicular to all I knew.