I have otherwise tried to be reasonably serious about my practice in my studio in the past year; spent many hours creating abstract canvases, based on a fairly clear and very strict idea of what I wanted to paint and where I wanted to go.
After all, am I not the one who always tells my daughters that they must never, ever grow up to the point where they forget to play?
(Abstract expressionist canvases, roughly in something I have defined for myself as organic minimalism and not least green colors to match the self-narrative of sustainability and progressive cultural criticism).
Then these damn fish start to appear everywhere—by themselves, like—and I find myself starting to refine and even caress them, where maybe I should just paint them over or dump them in the big trash.
Works in progress on the studio walls.
Once again things take an unexpected turn . . . .
I mean, damn it! By all means I now considered myself a serious artist. . . . Okay to throw together a couple of scrap fish from leftover or reclaimed wood or to make a bully boy out of driftwood. I shouldn't paint childish and naïve, figurative paintings, now should I 🫣🥴
. . . . just need to take a minute and remind myself what is really important here 🤓😇😎
I.e to practice what I preach.
After all, I am the one who always tells my daughters that they must never, ever grow up to the point where they forget to play. What better way to set an example myself than by just playing freely with the colors and shapes and seeing where it all leads? 🤡
So I'll continue working on this track and see how things turn out. If you want to experience the fish and the creative energy flowing in real life, you are always welcome at Tysk'havnen 12.
