A Quote by Danny Fox

The spirit of a painting is very hard to explain and articulate. I can't say it's not intentional because that is the mark I'm trying to hit, however I don't feel I have much control over it.
I'm not trying to spell out a story. I still think you feel the painting, and the reason you read the mark is because you also feel the mark.
I don't understand why a Mark Rothko painting - as much as I love Mark Rothko - has to cost $73 million. I mean, I think $14 million is a pretty reasonable sum of money for a good Rothko painting. What's disturbing about this present moment is that these prices have been so out of control.
Anyone else feel like that? Like your life's a big act. Like you're trying to be a man when you're just a scared kid, trying to keep under control when you really want to scream, cry, or maybe hit someone. Ever feel like you're breathing underwater and you have to stop because you're gulping in too much fluid.
I do feel there is a very rabid young base for 'Black Mirror' that will very much identify with the daughter character because of the invasiveness they feel with their parents trying to control their moves on social media.
We have some control over when we retire. However, we have very little control over how long we will live.
My ambition is to construct a painting so that the whole of its surface is alive, however I look at it. Each mark, and the interval between each mark must give something back on its own terms.
When do I say No? I say No when I feel that the intention of the play, or the spirit, or tone - or text! - is being knowingly changed. Fortunately, this has happened only once. Next time I would say No earlier, and definitively. Otherwise, ultimately, the only No you have is No, you can't open the play. And that No is very very hard to say.
I'm going to fail to hit the mark I've put up before me because it's not possible to hit it. I want to be the best at what I do so I've got to get over myself already because that's never going to happen. I ain't ever going to be God.
Color is crucial in painting, but it is very hard to talk about. There is almost nothing you can say that holds up as a generalization, because it depends on too many factors: size, modulation, the rest of the field, a certain consistency that color has with forms, and the statement you're trying to make.
I don't like the word 'calculated' because it sounds pejorative. Intentional. Intentional is better, I think. Wild in passion and intentional in expression.
No one can improve on nature's landscapes. I feel I've hit the mark when I've captured a balance between mood, look, and feel... when viewers say they sense the desert heat, or the chill of a mountain snowfall.
To get a horse to hit a mark without a rider, to get it to stand up, to get it to rear, to get it to pick up a bucket and bring it over is amazing. It's hard work and very rewarding but can be dangerous.
The true essence of Chinese culture is sophistication, refinement, the spirit of poetry. The spirit of ink painting and calligraphy lives on forever. Calligraphy is more important than painting. Chinese always consider nature. Man is a very small part of nature. That's why in Chinese painting you see huge mountains and man very small, very humble before nature. You must be harmonious and one with nature. You don't fight it. And then there's a bit of a poetry. Of course, it's very complicated, but also very simple.
My father was not comfortable working with very articulate people. He and Willie Wyler got along because neither of them was very articulate.
Over 80% of the poor are people who have small plots of land and grow their own food and they don't grow enough to sell much into the marketplace. So they will be hit hard by the worst in climate. They really get hit hard starting in the 20-year time frame and thereafter.
You either fainted or you wanted a much closer look at the cracks in the tile. Either way, you hit hard." "Seriously?" He nodded. "Maybe you shouldn't have been trying to make out with him," he suggested. How did he know that? "I was kissing him good-bye." He snorted and exchanged glances with the nurse. "That's not what it looked like to me." Probably not. But what happened? Could Reyes Farrow take control over me even from a freaking coma? I was doomed.
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