The poet Tom French noted in his chapter for the Boyle book, after visiting the artist at his studio/home, the following:
I think again of the upstairs room, the view, the silence, the smell of paint. Out of silence, and seeing the images come and find their form through him. He has stopped time in the process, and his sensibility is one that has been honed by silence and seeing and dedication. Now, after more than half a century of ‘going at it’, approaching the quiet centre of his self, nothing is beyond him.