Painting
1971, Turku
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The Remains of a Painting
Primeval forests are clear-cut, a small ride is expanded into a motorway, a block of flats shrinks down and becomes a red hut, and a juicy apple turns into a scoundrel. Fortune and misfortune. I look around and sense the events. Contrasts are created from realisations of everyday observations.
I make a painting from beeswax. The more three-dimensional it is, the more realistic it will be. I marvel at the painting for a moment and then smash it to pieces with a hammer and a chisel. The remains of the painting and a photograph of the intact picture are presented side by side.
I have a problem with restraining myself. I need to spend my food money on materials, and so 10-litre buckets serve as palettes, the painting is finished in a single splash, and 25 centimetres is a suitable thickness for the painting. Temperance is good. Rationality is something I do not support.
Psst. I will now reveal a secret: I have no idea whatsoever of what I will do after this series of paintings. I will enjoy myself and take everything out of the final and only idea that I have had.
