When our emotions override our rational thoughts, it becomes difficult for us to move freely. There is white noise interfering with the harmony between mind and body, and because of this we are unable to act according to the instructions given by our brain. The white noise of my life comes from my past experiences. They are deeply ingrained in my flesh. They interact with every single part of my body in every minute possible way. All my reactions are manipulated by those memories, so I am constantly reacting involuntarily, in a way almost similar to a reflex action. This affects not just my body but also the way I express myself verbally, the muscles that shape every syllable uttered from my mouth. After some time, the memories imprinted in my body even begin to find their way into the nervous system, so that my body reacts to my emotional self much faster than to my rational side. In situations like that, I find myself observing the struggle between my physical being and my willpower, and I wonder how I could gain inner freedom by taking charge of my own actions.
When I look inwards, however, I cannot find the so-called “self” I am looking for. I resort to painting in order to capture the elusive state of being I find myself in. I choose to use clean, simple lines and to eliminate most of the details of the physical body I am painting. I also deliberately make the surroundings appear less pronounced than they are and reduce the narrative elements on the canvas as much as possible. By doing so, I can shift the focus back to my inner conversation and find answers to my own questions.
What I enjoy most about the painting process is to present something with just the right amount of simplicity. Every single form, every single line is part of a pursuit to keep the work unrefined, natural and honest. By continuously asking myself if it is really necessary to add an extra line or another patch of colour, I attempt to reduce my work to its bare essentials.