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At last, I have gotten into my own zone of creativity after a long long way being lost.

It is no surprise but I am nevertheless delighted to understand that each person has their own path in art, which they do not get to choose for themselves. Appearently mine is in painting detailed and pretty pictures of imaginary places and imaginary people. So I discover different worlds and I paint images from those worlds.

Even though there are all sorts of things I enjoy looking at, I came to understand that something which exist only in its own right in a frame doesn’t grab my interest enough to engage in its creation. I am only motivated to make art when I have a story in mind. I mean characters and places, not a whole plot. But it is a story, and one that only I know of. So such a painting I make is never solely its content as it is, but has its totality in me. It is a whole other world which I seem to somehow connect to.

I am not interested in things of this world, as in the common world that is shared by the whole collective. A lot of artworks only speak to you through a filter of culture. Unfortunately the modern artists did a horrible job in this sense. They were interested in art itself (mostly in how it could express ambigious ideas through shifts of perception) and produced for art’s sake. This meant that they stayed in the boundaries of this world with mere inventions to rediscover it in different ways. All the play with the form was mostly due to a need to pierce through the rigidity of cultural conditioning. The production of an art piece was done (consciously or unconsciously) in consideration to the knowledge of existing forms, hence the cultural relevence. You play in the same ground that you are trying to destroy, only on the other side of it.

I don’t and will never see art as a concept inside the context of collective life. I believe that art is something so personal, so geniune, so naive that there can be no intelligable, sensible reason for making art. Art doesn’t care about common standarts of beauty or properness, but neighter favours unconventionality. It doesn’t care about originality, expression, inovation, or anything that has any sort of meaning in social terms. Art doesn’t care about what some audience will percieve of of it. Art doesn’t consider the situations of an outside world that a human may find relevant. Art doesn’t even care about the earthly wishes and worries of its own producer. It commands you in ways that you may not wish it had.

Art doesn’t care about anything but its own source of springing that we do not understand by any means. That is what Jung called the (collective) unconscious. I was foolish to think that such manifestation could only happen in a sort of psychic manner, almost without my consent. It appears that my personality with all of its earthliness has artistic quality instead, and it alone can do this. It is an incredible discovery that my simple inspirations that appear absolutely personal to me are actually springing from an impersonal “spiritual” source. So essentially my understanding of the so called spiritual was heavily lacking. So was my understanding of art and crafts of course. (Yes, I think that crafts are such an important part of this whole thing as well but I am running out of energy to write more)

I honestly had such a hard time without this singlemost activity of mine that has always been so essential to me. It surely never could have been thought of as a coincidence that the first thing I started to do as a toddler was to draw vigorously. And during all the other times of my life as well. But I also have a quite philosophical mind, so I can never do something without also thinking about its meaning. I have to consciously put it in its right place in my system. Finding out about and enjoying new aspects of art, as well as making the huge discovery of the psychic realms, I was entirely confused as to what art was is in the past 3 years. And of course there is the part about starting to see myself as an adult who has to take some part in society, hence the problem of submitting to its rules. My mind came to be stronger than my will and I lost my connection to the source of my artistic inspiration. When I was left without it, I never felt safe and at home.

Now I understand better and appreciate its gift more. I no longer try to be an artist, because I know I am one. I don’t judge what I produce but I make sure I am enjoying myself. There are still all sorts of causes of frustration, but they too shall pass.

If anybody has actually read this, have a nice day!

Very quick sketches of Hikari Club members I drew when I was nostalgic. Drawing them gives me a really strange, dark yet energetic feeling which I enjoy very much. 

A small painting with miniature details.

Ice Queen

The Feminine is the most potent, real and lifegiving power in my life. But it is also the most subtle and invisible, most easily lost against the currents of normality. Most easily lost inside the struggle.

Again and again I come back to it and life is born anew. What a feeling! To be that which I had forgotten that I am. That, which is unexplainable, unintelligable. Only felt.

I am the wind, I am the trees and rocks, I am all that is breathing and crying. And life is complete, despite being incomplete.

Had I not had a man in me, could have I just be? Oh, but the man and the woman are one and the same. I love him, and he loves me. I love her, and she… She is…

Oh, she. That’s all we want to know.

I didn’t need you to catch me, baaaka! 

The Pathfinder and At Least 3 Worlds (2018) 

This image is significant to me, which has much to do with its unusual way of emerging. It is not my creation but rather my sober hallucination. I started with tree branch-like shapes and a background texture. In the texture I was seeing things, and I started giving them visibility by going over them, preserving their original appearance. After I did this throughout the whole image, I checked whether there was a pattern with the images that had come about, and realised that the painting was divided into three.

LEFT - HELL

On the left, figures like demons (middle) as well as what I believe to be a suffering woman has emerged (bottom). An interesting detail which didn’t emerge clearly in the picture, but that I can vividly feel, is a girl of innocence who has sat on a dragon.

MIDDLE - EARTH



A dog’s face, a snake preying on a bird, a boy with headwear over them, a pregnant woman are some figures among this part of the image that emerges from the branch-like shapes that give the whole work its body, it’s structure. The most important figure of all is that whom I called the Pathfinder. He is a dwarf-like figure with a pointy hat, has lifted his hand as though if he is in command and is somewhat mischievous though also religious. I imagine him appearing to those who seek and take them places on a vast green, rocky land.

RIGHT - HEAVEN

 This part of the image is the one with the least figures, and is also divided into two. On the top, there is a being of a different dimension, somewhat in the appearance of an elf, smiling mischievously as though if seeing through the dreadful humor of existence. On the bottom, there is a wise old man with a key and a badger-like animal appearing next to his image.

Transitory Figures

There are two figures in the Earth section that seem to be referencing to the Heavens. One is a small alien, much like a baby in a womb, standing between earth and the elf-like being. The other is the face of a man on branches, which seems like a narrow reflection of the wise old man (though a different person).

I made these things once and forgot about them. Let's have them stay here.

Embryo Inside a Cave of a Castle of Creature-hood