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I differ from most contemporary artists, most historic also, this to the extent that I am doubtful to call myself an artist."Shaman" or something similar would perhaps be a better description if I wouldn't be so disturbed by the traditions and ritual aspects of such a title; so wrong, so bound to the flock. What distinguishes me from other artists isn't primarily the artistic expression; that I paint and make sculptures, but the source to, and reason why I must give these visions form. I haven't really had any choice, all other attempts on taking on different careers has just resulted in loops on my tread of life; that I've walked around in a pointless circle and then ended up where I started looping. I have a calling; be the one you're supposed to be or be nothing.
Not long ago, Earth time, I still once in a while constructed paintings. "There it would look nice with something red in order to balance this cold and there in the golden section...blahabla." I let imagination be my fellow creator which ended in pointless illusions. I'm not doing that anymore. The images I paint nowadays are first hand impressions and the techniques I constantly polish serve only to make these impressions as alive as possible, so alive that the painting evolves from being a plain surface to become a portal.
I live in many worlds in many shapes and sometimes when something important happens in the other worlds images from them arrive to me in this world. In many ways it's like I'm looking into the future at the finished painting. It's these glimpses, these visions I nowadays paint, and nothing else but these visions and thereby I tie together the different worlds.
As I earlier mentioned I don't make up paintings anymore, but a slightly irritating occurence I've noticed is that many spectators think my visionary works looks more constructed than the ones I've earlier actually constructed.
To see these visions and the consequences thereof does affect the view of the world, just look at the following example.
I saw an image before me through someone else's eyes; a scene where a painting stood resting against a table and the man whose eyes I saw it through thought something like "... that painting doesn't seem so special compared to the other..." The painting the man was looking at was "The Green Submarine" which I had on display at this site until a while ago.
After having this vision I painted the mentioned painting and had no more thoughts of it until months later when I visited an artist village and exhibited some of my works in one of their workshops. I'm right in the process of hanging my paintings and they are standing lined up around the room at the floor when a group of people enter. Supported by a table stands the mentioned "The Green Submarine" and a man is looking at it. The scene is familiar. The man speaks to his companion; "I like that painting and that painting, (he points), but this one that stands against the table feels too simple compared to the others..". Then I realise that the man who's watching the painting is the man through whose eyes I first saw the painting.
This arises a mystery, a paradox, one of the many details that are part a clue to The Great Question and part makes my kind of artistic ability meaningful. The mystery is; when did the idea behind "The Green Submarine" occur? Was it when I saw a glimpse of the future through that man's eyes or was it when I painted it or was it in that moment when the man saw the painting and I therefore saw it? The conclusion is that the image exists but has actually never started its existence.
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