This article is also published on Substack.
This entry will maybe read a bit differently than the others, because it wants to be about a slightly different kind of journey. Well, maybe slightly different in some ways but then completely part of everything else in others.
And I did not fail to see the direct connection between ways and journeys and writing too. This here is currently my preferred place for writing.
If this is not the first thing you are reading by me here (and I would say “hi mum” if she were still alive) then you will know that my work is about the interconnectedness of everything. In some previous entry I even went into the idea that everything is alive in a way, as everything has a lifespan.
So when I make my work, it often is like a dance with a massive living entity really. Everything appears to be alive when I am working on the drawings or photographs or with clay. And maybe that’s what makes the work so important to me personally. It’s all a collaboration with the materials and with the cosmos maybe, and definitely some kind of divine force that I am connecting to when working. And this is not some religious declaration but something that has been known as long as there are humans making anything and more recently is also being discovered by cold science. Oh, the entanglements.
I do not see myself as the sole source of anything I make or do. And whoever tells you that they are, has maybe not looked into this long enough. Each one of these words here in front of you was not created by me or you, but at the same time, they resonate in you and I am writing them down and we are both in this and it is wonderful and thank you for reading, I wrote this just for you.
And the same way words work, ink can work and photos and clay and it is all a cloud of fragments from this universe and we are swimming in the abundance of it and it’s way too much really for anyone to comprehend and so our brains are like these reductionist prediction experts. They prevent that we fall off cliffs and run into walls and predators and quick sand. But they also happen to make up stuff that will never really happen and stuff that never really happened and is not really happening either.
We have grown accustomed to celebrate the predictable. And I have spent decades working in an industry that specialises in creating narratives to do just that. Advertising and all of marketing really is designed to make us believe something is not just good or simple but also really, really important to us. And we now know that this way it is really possible to sell anything.
Even within that context I did whatever I could to tell genuine stories about something positive. I always wanted to talk about things that actually could help and save and improve people’s lives. The stuff that could turn a really difficult poor city into a prosperous one. Something that could save lives (millions of them) and I am really not a doctor. That kind of stuff.
And so, when I make art, it somehow also comes from that general need to somehow help start thought processes and emotions and the general idea of curiosity. I know that I am a creature who tries to predict and tune into and to create out of a certain energy that defies description perhaps.
And as mentioned many times, my work is deeply rooted in the fascination that everyone and everything is interconnected. And that’s just so brilliant.
Throughout my life I have experienced many times how connecting with others and opening up to them has generally improved the condition of everyone involved. We are truly interconnected organisms. And so that’s also why spending time in any kind of nature gives us a life changing level of peace. And this makes sense too, as we are encountering the larger ecosystem that has given birth to us again and again while constantly looking to create a balance in itself.
The natural world on any scale does not necessarily care about us individually, but at the same time, without it, there is no way for us to exist. It’s not just that we would not be able to breathe or eat or think… well, you get the point. We just couldn’t be.
I could continue talking about this for hours, obviously. And more recently more and more people around the world have found my voice or my work significant enough to listen. And I am not just getting a positive reaction to what I have created, I also seem to now be attracting people, organisations and even municipalities to some kind of more and more fascinating conversation and action. It’s as if the entire organism of all living things were slowly shifting weight and together we are shaping our collective mouth to start whistling. (Do you remember how impossible it was to whistle until it wasn’t?)
I am about to drive to a small town called Melides. It’s about 90 minutes from here. Anselm Kiefer used to live there, and Jason Martin currently does. He was the legend who invited me to be in an exhibition with him. Vik Muniz is in it too and Bernard Frize and many other artists whom I have yet to meet.
Very nervous about whom I might run into this evening. And some of the organisers (and the curator Graciela Kasep) are from Mexico, so there will be some of the finest Mezcal available too. Will try to carefully observe how the various spirits are going to enter the rooms and the gallery and everything and everyone.
Being able to connect to people and not just to the work itself is very much part of the journey. There are so many analogies to this. Pillars and engines and more alchemistic connections.
For an artist to survive they need to be able to connect to some kind of force to create, they also need to then connect to others and these others also need to somehow start supporting the whole dance. It is interconnectedness in the most literal sense.
The Rembrandt house in Amsterdam is a really nice layout that explains this physically. On the ground floor, Rembrandt had his gallery in which he sold work as well as the work of those he collected. He met his patrons here, in a special, quiet room. This is also where he would sketch those brilliant portraits. Behind that were the family quarters and the kitchen. It makes sense to have these there, as they are the literal human interface of the house. This is where one enters and eats and goes to sleep, hopefully.
Above this was his workshop, with more light than the ground floor could possibly have. And next to that he had his Wunderkammer, the collection of all the crazy stuff he amassed to then use in his work. You can probably imagine how Rembrandt would refine what he had captured downstairs or generate work based on the inspiration from his collection or a combination of both. Then above all that were the pupils, learning and producing and copying, and then the printing studio with all the chemicals and mess.
As much of our life has been turned digital we are told to cram everything into a glass box and to put descriptions of it all outside on its walls and then also to invite all kinds of agents and meta spies to hang around and sell whatever we say or do to the next best bidder. It’s all encrypted, and it is not, kept from human eyes, not others, oh.
It’s not the best way to work or live. Rembrandt had done this so much better. (And many other artists too, I just do not want to write an art history book here, I am just writing).
And so I have been working on some ideas how I could possibly create something akin to the setup that helps creation and interconnectedness but also protects some time and allows the development of longer term projects.
And no, I am not moving to the edge of a gracht.
We are over a thousand words in now, so I guess this here is more like a calm conversation among friends and not a public announcement. We have entered that quiet room in which nobody needs to shout.
I have been working on some models for people, or let’s call them patrons or partners, to be closer to the process of the work itself being developed. The point is that this is a proper connection, not one that is under the watchful eye of some gargantuan social media platform or to their main benefit.
You can (and I encourage you to) still become a paying subscriber here on Substack, of course. And once you do, I will still send you one of my mail art drawings (or you can have a photograph too, if you prefer that). You will get a new one every year and so eventually you might end up with a very meaningful and beautiful little personal collection.
The patronage model goes literally deeper. The offer is for in-person conversations about international projects and exhibitions. Those who participate can have access to some of the new sculptures almost literally as I am pulling them out hot from the kiln.
There is a possibility of us burying some objects on land the patron feels comfortable protecting, for the duration of the object being buried. And this can be two years, but it could be 200 or even more.
I am currently collaborating on a private commission here in Portugal that when completed will be a rather large assembly of individually crafted tiles. That’s also a possibility of something we could develop if you were to choose to become a patron or partner. And you can probably read between the lines that this is a slightly more involved journey, not a casual stroll.
Not going to lie about this. I am genuinely excited. A few good friends have been helping me describe and shape this offer properly. And what’s even better is that some of these friends are also now stepping forward and turning this into a real collaboration or adventure journey. It’s not just a moment, it looks and feels like momentum.
And that’s probably the most invigorating part of it all. I can talk about interconnectedness and about art and creativity as much as I want to. But being able to do this while genuinely feeling the real support of others is the ultimate experience.
We are told that what we need is the admiration and the fame that can only come from massive, faceless crowds. What we might really need is the love and support of a dozen or a few dozen people who care for us and for whom we care as well. It matters for us all to have a deeper and more meaningful connection. It’s maybe a bit like looking at a scholar rock together, but one that we both observed being shaped by the forces of the world from which we have emerged.
And in the literal work there are and will be pebbles and rocks and messages buried and sunk and also many circles. (Some bigger than we can possibly imagine.)
And the upcoming exhibitions and conversations will only get better.
This is all quite extraordinarily wonderful.
Hey, want to come with us? Send me a message and I will send you what I have so far. You can also leave a comment of course. But the actual thing is private.
But you read 2000 words about it now, so maybe it is for you?
