queen of cups wants to be the queen of swords

The Queen of Cups wants to be the Queen of Swords. Sometimes.
pencil on paper

guilt

Guilt, a photo by Sonja B13! on Flickr.

Henry Miller once said: „ sin, guilt and neurosis - they are one and the same, the fruit of the tree of knowledge“. Without you even realizing guilt can really suck you up dry and gradually destroy your entire self. Makes you even envy the sociopaths from time to time. God I hate conscience.

Pencil on paper

A Perfect Circle "Gravity"

saudade

If people had no faces they could all make such perfect liars.

Saudade, Pencil on paper, 40X30cm

James Blake "The Wilhelm Scream"

like mother like doll

Sometimes, even a grown woman needs a doll around. Cause women and dolls have a special bond. Maybe it's because they're both used to suffering in silence when they're broken.

Acrylic on canvas, 45x30cm

Erik Satie "Gnossienne No.1"  

hello imagination

The key to creativity is to know how to search inside, look outside, see beyond, read between, dare to dream, follow the voice within, dig some more, think some more and to, most importantly, never and I mean never, by any means, pay attention to any limitations. Because, there are no limits unless you acknowledge their existence.  And if ever, at some point in time, you find your mind swirling with ideas, notions, images, thoughts flashing all over the place, coming back and forth, overwhelming like the weight of the world, and you see a man peep out your hat who says: “yes, you’re on the right track honey” and winks at you, then, by all means, wink back and do what he tells you. 

Acrylic on canvas, 60x35cm

Apparat "You don't know me"

the old hag being a perfectly honest bitch

When somebody shows you their work that they’re really enthusiastic about and you're not, what you really want to do is say: “yeah, you’re good, but you’re never going to be great”, but instead of saying all that you just say the first part out loud and keep the other one to yourself.  This one depicts the left out part. 

Pencil on paper. 

Moloko "Absent minded friends"

a golden boy getting lost in the woods

I once accidently encountered a golden boy while I was trampling trough woods near my house. I can’t tell which of the two surprised me more; to see anyone walk through those woods but me or that I will ever be in position to encounter such a peculiar character. It was late spring and he was wearing a black turtleneck, some brownish, funny looking trousers and I think I also caught a glimpse of vintage suede gloves sticking out of his left pocket. There certainly was something about his entire appearance, his golden locks and the way he combed his hair that looked so outdated.  He stopped and politely asked me if I happen to have a spare cigarette. I actually did so I gave it to him. And I don’t even know the reason why I stayed there for a while except the fact that I couldn’t stop staring. After he lit the cigarette he turned his head away to the other side and looked around a bit. Then he bit his upper lip, frowned, inhaled another smoke and while still looking away from me he asked: “You don’t happen to know a river around this area that starts with a letter A by any chance, do you?” There was no river around that area that started with a letter A, so I said no. He didn’t do anything when I told him that, he just kept on looking in the same direction for a little while. Then he finally turned his face towards me, smiled and said: “Okay, thank you for the cigarette.” “No problem.” I said and looked in his face. He didn’t look confused, and he didn’t look surprised either. He just looked a bit tired. Finally we both said goodbye and went our own ways.  

And it wasn’t only after a while that I started thinking that perhaps he got lost and that I could have told him there aren’t any rivers around the area that start with a letter A. I could’ve asked him why he asked about a river in the first place. But I didn’t do any of those two. All I did was think how silly his question was. And maybe he really did get lost in those woods but was ashamed to tell me that. But then perhaps it really wouldn’t matter what I said to him. Because, I was a wondering girl and you could tell, he once truly was a golden boy.

Acrylic on canvas, 40x30cm

Bjork "Venus as a Boy"  

birth of an obsession (a caged mind)

Painting is therapeutic. That is why I never want to stop doing it. You pour out what is within on a blank piece of paper and when you’re all done it becomes a snapshot of your state of mind. And if you were ever curious about how you look inside you should paint. Your canvas is your mirror and a finished painting is your reflection. What you see might not always be something that you like but it’s just like with any other snapshot; you’re not always pleased with how you look in them either. But, it still is another you in another time. And you don’t need to look perfect, just sincere. That’s all. No faking, no phony smiles. You even get to blink if you like. Because, imperfect is just perfect after all. 

"An obsession: a compulsive preoccupation with a fixed idea or an unwanted feeling or emotion accompained with anxiety."

Acrylic on canvas 40x30cm

Soap&Skin "Janitor Of Lunacy"

head in the clouds, feet on the ground - a free spirit

This is a portrait of a close friend of mine that I made for her birthday. And it really is true that if I could’ve said what she is like in words, I wouldn’t have had a reason to paint her. So, to sum up all that I know about her, this is who she is, and not in my words but in her own colors.

Acrylic on canvas, 40x30cm

 

Muse "Feeling good"

confusion

I hate confusion. And I’ve been confused more times than I can remember. You know what it’s like; you get a nasty, strange sort of feeling because all you really want is for things to be clear again, but you just can’t seem to get there somehow. It slips away no matter how hard you try. And the more you pray for clarity the more bewilderment you get. What was once up now it’s down. You’re getting lost and you can only stray further away. And I know someone once said that if you don’t get lost there’s a chance you may never be found but I still hate it. Plus, I get scared when I’m lost. It never brings me any good while I’m there. 

This painting is about seeing an old lady waiting for a bus on one late afternoon in spring holding her purple umbrella looking just so old and lost. And about me, being unable to get that image out of my head for a mighty very long time. 

Acrylic on canvas, 30x40 cm 

Heidi Elva "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter"

the coming of summer

I was always curious about how I would end up painting summer. And this is what I came up with. My aunt said he looks like a Polish boy standing on a beach somewhere in the Mediterranean. As he turns his back to the sun and eats a huge corn he realizes that his skin is burning. And, yes, I remember, summer sometimes does feel exactly like that. It burns your skin without you even realizing until you're finished with your corn. 

Acrylic on canvas, 35x45 cm.
 Portishead "Strangers"

honestly, darling, I no longer care about what you have to say

This painting I made reminds me so much of how it's supposed to feel at that one moment when you REALLY stop caring about what the other side has to say (and you used to so much). I guess you feel numb yet liberated, tired yet powerful at the same time. They call it the moment of clarity, the moment before you finally decide to leave the old and no longer useful behind. However, as for the moments of clarity, all I'm getting is moments.

Acrylic on canvas 55x40 cm.

 

Moloko "Forever more"