My relationship with a painting

29 December 2006

When painting the ice landscape a friend asked me why I was more enthusiastic in making one painting than the other. In other words; why one painting comes to me easier than some other one?
Some painters theatrically cry out that their paintings are their children and it’s a burden to sell them. For me, after a certain point, my paintings needs to produce dough. That sounds more calculating than it is, but let me explain the relationship between me and my paintings.

It’s not to say I do not love my own creations. Oh, no … just like a mother saying about her children; my creations are the best in the world! Parts we are not completely satisfied with, we cover with the cloak of charity, right?
But my paintings are no kids that I can not release. When they are finished, they have to spread their wings. Buzz off and earn money for mama. Goodbye, I have your picture on my night stand.

My relationship with a painting

Let’s talk about ‘Cyphomandra Vitra’.
From the very beginning our love was grand and compelling. Everything we did together went well and we were great together. At least, from my perspective I thought she was great and I couldn’t stop talking about her. Look at her; Such a rugged and uncomplicated background, coupled with the clear & frank countenance. Her strange deformities (reflections and refractions) were her original view on the world and that purple glass was almost better than rose-colored glasses! And seen from her view; Well … it was not without my creative urge she was on earth anyway.

But after a stormy affair we easily went our separate ways.
The good memories and the pictures are enough. And a new love is waiting. As well as for her as for me.

Taxus glacialis (that cold icy landscape) however, became a long and difficult relationship. Is it because some friends are too much like yourself? Because their character is too transparent to you? And you know their tricks too well?
Yes, yes and yes … But that is also the reason you can’t criticize them. The difficult relation is because they don’t surprise you. They are you.
If this kind of painting is appeared on my easel I notice I try to postpone the confrontation. My inspiration to paint is fading. If the conversation finally is happening, mostly it turned out not too bad, but … as soon as the end of the agreement is in view, I already waiting at the door with my coat on. Sorry, session time is over!
The strange thing is that such a kind of ‘marriage of convenience’ however, doesn’t predicts anything about his success if the painting is launched in the public world.


One of my first serious paintings was a big struggle too. I even want to call it a fight. But in the end, it became one of my most popular ones in that series.
Once the size of ‘The trash bin’ was rectangular. During painting those endless little bricks I got so sick of them that I decided to go in denial. There was still a long way of bricks to go on the left part of the painting, but I took the saw and cut it of to a square format. Those days I painted on wood. After that brute force the painting had to sit facewards against the wall for years, before I finished it.

I still make repetitive patterns. But nowadays I don’t ‘deny’ them anymore. I cope with them. Yes, getting older means getting milder, isn’t it? Also in relations.