For years I’ve been making my work very meticulously. From an early age surrealism was appealing to me, especially Salvador Dali and his almost photographic execution of his works. He went into the art academy of Barcelona and shouted:”How do I paint a loaf of bread?”...or something like that.....he was interrested in the most accurate way of portraying things, so he could paint his visions without any flaws. The drawing, painting was just a way to depict the images in his mind. The life of the drawing or the human traces on canvas was irrelevant. And he had to let himself loose in the graphic work he did, or else I suspect, he would go totally dead. Quite the opposite of Picasso who was always experimenting, at least in his young days, and searching for new ways. One day we paint like David and on friday we make a goat-sculpture from some cans and a wooden chair. I tip my hat to that.....and my favorite Picasso quote:”If it all matches, it’s not interresting.” He is so right. If there is not one color that sticks out like a sore thumb, you’re only making decoration. And to quote myself:” Art or decoration?”


From the age of 18 I knew my path. I was a surrealist, old school, dedicated to photographic realism blended with some expressionistic feel. Starting out with pure automatic drawings ending in satirical work with surrealistic overtones. In all the years following I have had some blocks along the way, some dryspells. It’s hard always to be obliged to have an opinion and to draw that. Always to have an idea. Always telling a story. And always feeling like you’re cheating if you only enjoy painting for paintings sake. Always to use only your head and not your body. You can take salsa lessons of course, but it’s not the same. Although it’s great exercise, and when you have the perfect salsa partner, it’s borderline ecstasy.


Some days drawing was a tedious affair. But then one day in 2008 I took some old issues of New Yorker, a bottle of ink, a sabrebrush and some watercolors, sat down and made 6 portraits of people I admired on the stale pages of the magazine. I have always avoided painting portraits. I could not make good faces. Especially the noses. The whole geometry of the face was a pain the ass for me. Like Munch, who did not paint hands, because he couldn’t. Not like the arthistorians think, that it was on purpose. No, he could not make them right, the poor bugger. At least i can. And feet too. But faces. Hmmm. But the brush was dancing. And I made maybe 16 watercolors. I was lining them on the the floor and I knew something had happened. I was happy and tired. I knew something new had started. My wife stopped by and said:”This is great! it’s vibrant and determined. I like the hard, tough brushstrokes” But it was also the start of me loosing my grip on everything. And this ”griploosing” is causing me to work in all directions, never knowing where I´ll end up. Never knowing what the next painting is gonna be like and a big HELLO to my body. I am starting to feel my limbs again and the libido is improving, because of working in larger formats. Also outdoors, throwing canvasses on the ground and dance, dance, dance. Karel Appel is a great inspiration to me. The feel of standing 10 feet from a canvas and attack it. Really thrash it. That feels good. The sky is bluer. The grass is greener. Talk to you later on portraits....