To begin

When I come into my studio, I have my own ritual. I begin by cutting out paper and clamping it to my workspace. Then I glance through plant- and gardeningbooks and have a look at my pinboard filled with clippings and print-outs. I browse through drawers stuffed with parts of my work. I start my computer and surf to pictures of plants.

I come past sites with offering platters filled with flowers, authentic pant tattoos, sientific articles about physics or biology and artist's materials. Sometimes I have a stroll around the garden, but then something has got to happen, something wondeful; a small plan has to come into being, a cause.

Then I start.

Inner garden

Wherever I am I try to ground myself, by grubbing with my hands through the earth, but even more by annexating nature onto paper. The state of our environment is not so peachy. Nature suffers from mankind's interventions. Despite of that, she is capable of great evolvement and adeptation. But for how long and to what disfugurement will this lead?

In my work I show an alternative for nature; my own garden, my inner garden. A contemporary icon of nature.

Material

I shape the tension between human interference (culture) and nature by combining industrial manufactured materials like liquid rubber, tar, glitter- and neon paint, molds and stamps with conventional drawing materials like pastels, charcoal, pencil and oil-paint. Flower and plant shapes in wallpaper, embroidery and other decorations also inspire my work.

Growth and death

In my work processes of organic growth and death play a brole, just like processes in a garden. Drawing and erasing, painting and piercing, projecting and cutting. Using molds, sketches and torn pieces of paper. Layer after layer the right concentration of form and colour originates.