According to Sigmund Freud young children are solely focussed on satisfying their own lust. In growing older they are learning to adjust to the realities of life. This makes the drive for satisfaction of primitive lust move to the realm of fantasy. Because of this Freud called fantasy a  "nature preserve", a place where everything is like it used to be, where nothing is cultivated, where there are no rectengular acres, where there are no usefull straight roads crossing. In this place everything can sprout and grow freely, also everything that is useless, ugly, illogical and forbidden. 

Proces. I see my paintings as results of expeditions through this preserve. When I am painting I try to let go of control as much as possible. There is no goal and no specific image I want to create. I am a painter who isn't painting to give expression to verbal/conceptual content that is occupying him. For me painting is lust. It is to start off a natural movement that somehow has its own self-organizing principles. I am trying to be the wind that blows through the preserve, the sun that makes the plants grow, the careless sprouting, the cyclic movement of water, the behavior of the animals and the alternation of the seasons. I don't make or build; I incite in a highly impulsive way and leave marks by doing so.

Meaning. What does meaning mean in art? I never knew, and the more I paint, the less I know. In the tracks I leave behind on the paper sometimes specific shapes, structures or combinations of color emerge. When these elements somehow resist being overgrown they keep their place in the work. Most of the times these elements are simply what they are, not referring to anything, and painting them and looking at them is purely satisfying the lust for form and looking. Lately I feel progressively free on this matter; my work becomes more explicit in its abstractness. However, sometimes the elements have some kind of meaning. A circle in a certain constellion of forms can refer to a sun or another celestial sphere. I am never searching for these meanings, it's like they impose themselves upon me. Also, these meanings are never singular and precise, but mostly plural, vague and suggestive. A soft brown triangle with its base downwards, for example, could refer to a mountain or a pyramid, but in a much broader sense it can also mean rest, safety or groundedness. None of these interpretations is true. The painting can be experienced with totally different interpretetaions, or none at all. For myself the idea is growing on me that the images I find in my explorations are of a rather archaic nature; I can feel them, but I don't understand them.

Fantasy. Quite explicitely I want to claim that for me painting is not a way of putting fantasized imagery into the world. If that would be the case, It would be impossible for me to really be "in the moment" when I paint, because the images I would want to bring forth were conceived in a piece of time that is already gone. For me painting is the fantsizing itself. I fantasize in shape, color, rhythm, gesture. For this reason painting is almost always satisfying for me, regardless the results. In the much broader perpespective of my life painting is the essential acting out of unfiltered lust and drive. 

Quality. If you completely think all of the above through in a consquent way, it would mean that paintings are never finished and definite; after all the natural processes in a preserve never stand still. This is not my experience however. In the natural movements on the paper sometimes there are moments when I feel a certain recognition. The work evoces a certain experience of completeness and beauty inside of me. I take a halt then and stop working on that specific piece. If that evocation also takes place a day later, and a week after that, I kind of accept the idea that the piece is finished. I learned to totally trust my intuition in calling a painting finished; I see paitings with my belly. I've experienced, though, that I am not alone in what I see, it gets recognized by aothers too, which brings me great joy.