Art is essentially “everything we do for no other reason”. But it also might be what we choose to internalise from an exterior world so as to unbind us from the nostalgia of what we already found out. Nostalgia is death, Art is a murderer, forever killing the inertia of knowing

If there was one important thread through my work over the last 12 years it would that I try to set up an arena for unexpected moments to happen right up until the last moment. The successful works are surprises. A form of generative process, but also of following my curiosity.

There is a hope to capture the evidence, the story of it’s creation. Information being encrypted into it's fabric, a knot to never be unraveled.

In the process there is a playfulness, a curiosity, no direction, only reacting to everything present. There is no attempt at narrative, no didactic function, no construction. Only a thing that is there, with all all it’s history spilling out onto itself.

The important moments have taught me a lot about looking. My ''best'' abstract works could also be described as chaos distilled in a moment that suggests an inherent order.

We are constantly trying to extract meaning from chaos, to find forms in the dark, to formulate sense from the senseless. And maybe in a way abstract works hold that function. like a horror movie, to allow us the experience of fear without the actual danger.

To allow us to sit with the senseless and give ourselves up to chaos, to release ourselves from having to find order in everything for a moment, to stare into the nothingness and enjoy nothingness. To find the order-less order away from our need to understand or control it.

Obviously there is a lie there though. There is an artist involved, there is direction and choice.

But I think that is the game I like to play, to understand when I am there too much, to dissolve myself, to lose the importance of the idea that I am creating, and rather follow chaos until something ''beautiful'' emerges on ''it's own accord''.

As an artist in a digital age, a painter that isn’t really a painter, producing works that are a slave to the history of Modern Western art history. That owes so much to Guston and the New york school, but also has nothing to do with their moment in the world.

It feels impossible to create without feeling the weight of the question in every moment from start to end, is this really just all bullshit? Does any of this hold up to scrutiny, or is it just more lint to be dug out the belly button of the internet and discarded on the big pile of irrelevant and derivative spam that holds or doesn’t hold our attention for the few minutes the algo allows to enter the outside world.

The indulgence of the irrelevant, the fleeting, makes it possible for me to look again at these digital paintings, these artifacts of process and thoughts and moments in a different light. to find new and more complex meaning in what it means to be a visual artist in a digital age.

To alienate myself as the viewer, it allows me to be the artist, the audience and the critic. It’s through the mocking that makes it worth mocking. It’s through the disregard of the sacred which allows me to look closer. The crossed out word we need to look behind to make searching meaningful again.