“She puts selfies on Facebook “

“She puts selfies on Facebook “

The benefit to be an artist is beautiful, you can do whatever you want and say because you are an artist.
Art is art , either you like it or not but don’t judge if this is ‘done’ or not, it is art, always , because it is.
God my life is good, almost perfect!
I can put pictures of myself to show off to be the coolest of the crowd and say, hey it is art ! I sell them, they are to be seen in Art Fairs and galleries.
Yay how cool am I !

Ha yeah right…and then you come to this party, full of my old dutch crowd. (Note: it has been 12 years that I am gone)

Ding dong ..like Eminem:
What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud
He opens his mouth, but the words won’t come out
He’s chokin’, how, everybody’s jokin’ now
The clocks run out, times up, over, blaow!
Snap back to reality, oh there goes gravity
Oh, there goes Rabbit, he choked….

Hey Lolo how are you?
Oh my oh my, my brains go from left to right up and down, who is she? I completely put her in the wrong setting because of her appearance , she looks different.
My brains make a little jump to how the sun makes the difference in our south european lives , the joy, the warmth , the sensual heat makes the people give this special glow.

So I say, oh help me ( what is this also with the sunglasses, how can you expect me to recognise you if I see myself in your mirror glasses, who are you, I know who I am !?)
She takes the glasses of tells her name and we are set for the next minutes.

In my right ear I hear ‘Oooh it is you Lolo, I finally see you in reality’, ‘how amazing’ , she gives the mirror glasses girl a poke and giggles ‘she puts selfies on Facebook’.
I smirk , put a beautiful smile on my face and keep the silence going, the mirror glasses doesn’t know where she finds herself in and says, ‘oh how nice so you put selfies on Facebook ‘, I don’t have Facebook’.
..obviously,. otherwise you would have known that my job is to make you happy on Facebook with my selfies..or at least I think that is the thought of the other. I am confused..selfies?

Saved by the bell by a very enthusiastic other sunglasses , L o l o ( what is with the name !? ,.why always want to spell my name as if I don’t know, I hate it, do you learn that in therapy !?)Your sunglasses hurt my cheeks whilst you kiss me hello, she is screaming with her party voice ‘I understand you live her already so long it is one big party’, ‘we partied till 6 o’clock in the morning so cool here’ I reply ‘ yes one big party my dear sunglasses’.

I need a beer , maybe I should make a selfie .

The same old conversations start again ,roots, schools good enough on an island, boardingschools.. oh noo, why here? Madrid what is in Madrid? , Barcelona ..cant follow , when do you come back?,I will not come back, huh never??..Jeeez noo ! as if i am here as a therapy or a rehab clinic, one big party follower, a selfie junkie!.. I live here.

I am tired and sit on a perfect bed next to the pool, you are there drinking at the bar, dancing balancing on your too high heels, hands in the sky as if there is no tomorrow.
I find myself looking at the life I left, I wonder why I always find myself in the situation that I feel the need to defend what I do , I am an artist I should not have to.Maybe still too polite. I am aware of the stories they take home so I put on my best smile and my best story, why do I feel misunderstood. I come back on the story I have written before you are here for a party and your holiday ,I am here to live and to stay.
Why do we judge so easily , and why do you judge so loud, Eminem asks as well.
I sit and watch the crowd go completely drunk, you take a taxi, I want to drive home.
The moment arrives that the booze is talking louder than your own judgement and all of you jump in the pool with your perfect Ibiza style dresses, Mobile still in your hands , I smirk again..make a selfie now and we compare on Facebook.
See you at ArtBasel

The state of what I call subconsciousness

The state of what I call subconsciousness

As it is a very difficult thing to explain the actual physical existence of being and the existence in frequences such as Einstein was referring to centuries ago without me sounding to hazy or worse she lost the plot kind of expressions!I will stop trying .

But I have to explain where art is coming from where it is created for me, once a man told me ‘when copying stops art begins’. That means it must be made in a kind of state of subconsciousness to not be affected by outside influences to have the slightest indication which refers to copying. You can call it inspired by whats happening in this world, other people call it copying, a difference between a negative and supportive or positive approach.

Sometimes when you drive your car, you start with thoughts , they linger on, till a point where you look out of the window and think , oh wow I am already here. Not that you were sleeping behind the wheel ( can be yes but that is a total different expression and meaning will come to that later !) That is the state what I call subconscious . My moment of painting is the moment when you drive your car and realise you already further than you thought.

I paint between consciousness and subconsciousness. There is a small line between the two , I am there.

It is an almost hypnotic state, no awareness ,no real realisation, but very much awake.
That is where I found the best spot to paint or draw without knowing what I paint or will come out.
In that fine line are memories and thoughts of pleasures of imperfect recall and other memories which gives me goosebumps, inspiration. All are stories lived and re-lived and finally visualised in a painting . Emotions are turning into colours and forms. I disappear into my own (I)Cloud where I stored all my remembrance . As I wrote before as we grow older we increasingly get more forgetful, we sometimes rack our brains for past experiences, they are all there, perfect or imperfect, and draw a blank. The blank still marks a spot, a spot where a memory used to be and might if smelled the right smell, reappears. If I go in my ‘almostsubconsciousness(I)cloud’ all reappears.
So I paint when I seem to wander off to remembrance once lived.