How Things Look the Way They Do

Most works have their origin in what’s been seen in pictures and literature, and of course in everyday life and memories. Every work has a before and after, but above all a presence in the free fall of time.

The studio resembles a bunker beside a hardware store’s basement in southside Stockholm. Hence the feeling of going down a chamber, a place for interpretation, storing and processing impressions from outside and further.

When I work, sometimes I get to think of Norman Mailer’s novel Ancient Nights. It’s set in Egypt where the process of embalming is described by the diseased. It’s a fine transition, changing between subject and object, including memories, dreams and mythology while all the tools and materials needed for the mummification are described.

What is it in this that I find inspiring? I believe it’s the act of sampling thoughts, that will be materialized, in the stream of work.

There are artistic practitioners who point out directions and forms to embrace and work further on with. In the vortex of impressions, it’s the hand and the scrutinizing gaze that decide what you end up with.

I suspect that existential matters are strongly connected to entertainment since I never get bored during work.