My second child, Ekke, was born on 16th of July. Welcome, Cancerian Rainbow boy!
Photo: my own
There is so much in common between creating a human being and creating a painting. All is letting life come through. Isn't it strange how mothers/creators talk about birthpains and suffering (of an artist), but none focuses on the pains of the newborn. It must be a huge thing coming onto this planet. All the atmosphere changes to bare!
All the sights achanging. All the new necessities. How do you know you need to suck when you need to suck, without the thinking part? Guess this instinct controls pretty much everything: decision making is based on biology. Life force, gut decisions. That's what controls our behaviour. It still does. The rational explanation comes after the decision is made.
So everything starts from the fog and crystallizes in the end.
I have been asked if I still continue painting, and of course I do. That's a huge motivation. The babies! Endless eyes and random smiles! Only parents can understand. And then the question if I consider my artworks "my children". No, never. I'm pretty sure that only a non-parent could make a comparison like that. Paintings - however powerful - can never have such multidimensionality as a counscious mind of a human being (with a silky soft touch and senses that are so sharp and tender like newborn's).
So Ekke has a lot to teach and I hope to be ready for the lessons (grin).
In between the fountains of milk and smells of gasoline, only more I am convinced in my style: to paint the flowing states of mind, and show them in the best, the most precise way I can - that only colours, forms and rhythms know how to bring forth via playing with each other, and so bring us one step closer to understanding.
Summer Love. 2018, oil on canvas, pretty small but not too small