Short stories of distance

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'Short stories of distance -sketch', 2010, pencil on paper, 4,3x5cm
'Short stories of distance', 2010, oil on canvas, 140x170cm

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I wish I knew how to comfort her, my social skills are very poor. It was the week before our first big evaluation moment and she was feeling nervous. She often needs a little push. I'm telling her "everything's going to be allright" over and over again, because I don't really know what else to say. We give each other hugs and I held her for at least seven 'mississippi's'. I like to think of her as my twin.

I wish I wasn't so black inside. One of my former teachers was explaining to his pupil, who has a marcel-duchamp-kind of artistic pace, that she should reflect her personality more extreme in her painting method. He compared her lightness of the mind to mine. I like her very much, she always tries to make me smile.

I wish I could have my very own 'Black Goddess Rises'-limited-edition-from-1994-longsleeve. The closest to owning one was painting one. And I did once more in the following "Others like to see the world".

I wish I had more confidence painting large figures.

Art hurts

When I was in my second bachelor year in art school, Sint Lucas in Antwerp, I felt very much alone. The girl I befriended most during the previous year had switched schools and I didn't had any real connection yet with the rest of the group. Nevertheless, I've gotten used to seeing their charmes every morning and, I think, they were open to have me around as well, especially because that period I was acting very silly. "How does the room in your head look like?" and 'How would you bring this outdoors?' the questions were posed. The difficulties met on our individual artistic paths led to create a warmer working space. Helas, more departures of fellow students who were at their end followed. I was alone in the atelier, when a girl came in to pack the last of her painting materials. We've had a chance to talk and say our goodbye's. She left with a smile, but this also made me feel very very alone. That's when I wrote out on a large cardboard "art hurts".