One step forward, two steps back, or the other way around...?

As promised, my "review" of the Golden Open acrylics now that I've worked with them for a few weeks...however I won't give out any stars as this really turned out to be an apples-and-oranges kind of matter.

First of all, going back to working with acrylics in general felt strange at first. The texture and workability of the paint compared to Cobra is so different - where the Cobra paints could irritate me for being thick, dry and sticky to work with, Golden is very translucent and thin and thus also very different from "regular" opaque acrylics that was easy to apply in thick layers. I was advised to adjust the opacity with regular acrylics and just be constantly aware of what effect I wanted and how to combine the paints accordingly, I suppose it will take some more time to get used to.

So far I have discovered that when it comes to whites and blacks I have to depend on other acrylic brands at least when it comes to the first layer, as the titanium white has the same "milky" effect of zinc white in other brands, and the bone black, even straight out of the tube, is just as translucent as watercolour. The raw sienna and Hansa yellow light are also quite low in opacity but in general it's a plus that the tubes includes an opacity guide to make the choice of colours easier, depending of the properties you want (as far as I could tell though, most of the yellows scored much the same on this scale).

Golden also has several mediums to go with it; Golden Open and other Golden products can also be combined for the desired effect. I have used the Golden slow-dry medium previously with other acrylics, which should be redundant in this case since the paints already have prolonged drying time, however I was encouraged to try another medium which supposedly would blend the colours together while they were still wet (but not just after application, and not actually mixed in with the paint). I've just used it on very small areas as of yet but I'm not sure I see the full potential in it yet; the effect was much the same as if I had just used water. In addition I suppose I'm more partial to thicker layers and tend to get more impatient with thin translucent layers - in this matter I have to say Cobra gets the upper hand because blending colours and thick layers weren't always mutually exclusive. It seems difficult to get both with Golden, however more experiments with Golden Open to regular acrylics ratio may prove me wrong.

One obvious advantage about Golden Open is that even though the drying time is longer than regular acrylics, it doesn't take months for the painting to dry. After the first stroke of Golden Open the paint was still surprisingly wet after a few hours, but it was dry by the next day and I didn't have to wait several days before continuing work. And since the drying time doesn't result in a sticky surface that collects dust like a magnet, the surface is cleaner (and easy to keep clean).
However, as it is now I have the Golden Open painting and a Cobra painting hanging next to each other and the differences, especially in terms of paint surface are highlighted: Compared to the Cobra painting with its glossy surface, colour intensity and brush marks still left in the paint in the thicker layers, the Golden Open painting has a matte surface with colours that almost seem to recede even though the colours are very intense. It may be just an optical illusion, something that's only visible while the two paintings are seen in the same glance, or just a question of getting used to this new (old?) medium.

In general I would say that both brands have obvious advantages and down-sides, and that the challenge is really to adjust the use of or combination of the mediums according to each project....and hope that I will never really succeed. If there is no room for experimentation or play and just an endless strive for perfection, there really is no need for art-making as I see it.

2013!

 

It's 2013, and even though it's not really my thing I've actually made new year's resolutions. Not that they're completely new.

One of them seems to be a continously failing project; that is to update my website regularly and blog more often - as well as  my eternal promise to use my sketchbook more instead of letting ideas slip away the second after they appear.

I won't try to make excuses ....ok, maybe I will.

In august 2012 I began my first semester of the master program in art history. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and I spent a lot of time trying to decide what to write about (I didn't even know at the time that you could choose whatever topic you wanted, not restricted to course related material). I think I've gone through 4 or 5 different topics or angles at this point and I'm still not certain I've made the right decision. To add to my frustration, the first presentation of my project outline went straight to hell and the panel of professors wanted me to reconsider the idea altogether - so I had to start over from scratch when a lot of the others already had the green light to start working, which honestly felt like a slap in the face (which I probably needed, in retrospect). I'm now waiting for my green light - if I have to rewrite it again I still (theoretically) have a chance of completing my degree on time, but I certainly hope my outline will make the cut this time around.

On that occasion, in addition to reflections on painting, the blog will now also include some perspectives on writing and how the master project is developing (I can't guarantee it will be the most interesting read ever though).

As for painting, I'm planning to enter the new year by trying out a new brand of paints - I know I told myself I wouldn't go back after I tried cobra water soluble oils, but I've noticed how the sticky slow-drying (or should I say never-drying) surface tends to attract dust at a rate I can't keep up with, and it gets more and more inconvenient - both in terms of storage and aesthetic qualities. Add to that the impossibiity of improving the fluency of the paint without affecting opacity, and it should be understandable that I want to try something new. The paint shop where I usually go recommended Golden Open, which is a slow drying acrylic paint that allows you to adjust the drying time further with different mediums, and it is said to be in general more popular and suit the purpose better than cobra paints. So I'll probably go on a mad paint shopping spree on Thursday - as mad as my already slender wallet will allow - and I promise to blog again with my "review" once I've tried them.

Happy New Year!

Inspiration & nostalgia

This is going to be a long post, but I had been thinking about writing something for a long time and here the other day I found some old photos that triggered a long string of thoughts.

I suppose it started with a general sense of nostalgia that I get when I look at photos from Strykejernet, and I do look through through photos from that period of my life quite a lot because it was at that point that the importance of documenting the process around my work became clear to me. As a consequence of that, paired with the fact that I worked more productively and systematically than ever before, I have several albums of photos from those months alone, including pure documentation of works, exhibition hangings, photo course work and general photos taken around the building. However these photos have more than nostalgia about them as they also have the function of transporting my mind to that specific creative point and I can use that as point of departure when I feel like I'm out of ideas or generally uninspired. Over the last few years I've found it to be a very fruitful method - I've also kept all my sketchbooks, stills and almost any other work or tool left from my time at Strykejernet to aid current creative processes.

However, these were not the photos refered to in the introduction. Those particular photos were taken from the other art school I went to before Strykejernet, Einar Granum School of Art. Looking back I've always thought they were kind of polar opposites in that Strykejernet focused much more creative processes, contemporary art practices, and finding your own voice whereas Granum was more about anatomy, technique and theory. In this way the two schools no doubt complement each other, which is why I think I'm fortunate to have attended both - however it is still Strykejernet that seems to have played the bigger part in shaping my own work and my thoughts around my own work. As I looked through the photos from Granum I felt almost ashamed that I had all but forgotten about my time there for so long.

I do have a lot of fond memories from those years, sadly much less documented than from Strykejernet, but what surprised me more than to find photos of old friends was the rediscovery of documentation of old works that are now destroyed or missing; works I had completely forgotten about.

Take this piece for instance. I remember it was the result of a course focused on space and we were asked to create "a comforting space". The minimalistic space I made includes a plaster cast of my father's palm - the cast of the back of the hand belonging to a kind volunteer in my class if I remember correctly, as the mold I made of dad's hand broke at that point. My interest in exploring sculpture in space never exceeded mandatory course work; I've never made anything like it since, which may be why it almost seems unreal that I created something like that at some point in my life, let alone at a point where my work had a much higher level of immaturity in general.

That's what made me reflect on the value of not discarding everything I've made before a certain point - which is what I've been guilty of since I left Strykejernet. For a time I've thought that what I was doing before Strykejernet, through some logic of my own invention, was void of meaning and consequence. Through a conversation with one of the guest teachers a few weeks into the semester I gained a new insight and starting point for the work that followed and from that moment on it became important to me to not look back at all. Now I wonder if it's time to at least glance over my shoulder for inspiration once in a while.

Not to say that I necessarily want to mimic the artistic expression I had at that specific point in time, but at least contrast it with what I'm doing now, reflect on the process - Have I gotten "lost" in myself, or found myself? Is it a development of a more or less coherent project, if so, how can it best be described? Is it possible to take one of my discarded ideas or past projects and use it as point of departure for something new? (The answer to the latter question will most likely be yes in many cases)

A case in point is my graduation piece from Granum, the documentation of which I was unable to find a digital copy of. The theme was unrelated to where my interests lie now, but it was a piece combining a painted canvas and printed/framed text, a form which I could very plausibly have used today. And I never thought I would have found such a direct connection between what I did then and what I do now, let alone through a piece that I had almost forgotten all about.

In closing I would emphasize that one thing in my life now of course has a direct connection with my years at Granum, even though I often neglect to think of its origin - my interest in art history.

My first year at Granum we had one whole day a week dedicated to art history, presented by Pierre Lionel Matte (shown here at the graduation ceremony where he was awarded with flowers). He has such enthusiasm for his field and more than any other he gave me the bug to delve into the history of art, other artists and their contexts. So come to think of it, Einar Granum school of Art has very much a relevance to where I am now, just as much as Strykejernet does, if in a somewhat different way.

Painting, theory and everything I didn't write

This is another one of those blog posts that are originally supposed to be an update but really is a therapeutic way of channeling built-up frustration, I'm afraid. I've been working hard lately, not so hard that I don't have the potential to work even more (there's always that potential), but I do find myself working on multiple projects and ideas at the same time. The only problem with that is it makes my inner people pleaser come to life and torture me.

Because out of all these projects and ideas, how many have I completed and how many will be completed in the near future? If they actually do get finished, are they any good at all or just ready to be trashed?

When I get an idea, I usually spend a lot of time going over it in my head, making sketches and trying out possibilities. It's when I actually start to work on it that things start to go south - especially when it comes to painting. Because when I paint, the original idea starts to fade and I become more and more eaten up with technical questions and whether the brushstrokes are "correct" or "incorrect" or look the way I want them to look like. Often I have an idea in my head of what I want it to look and this idea overshadows what I want to communicate, and just the fact that I allow it to happen frequently causes my self confidence to plummet. I just have to take a step back and try to understand what I'm actually doing.

I won't pretend that I have the answer to that question yet. Instead I marvel at how painting and theory (idea) become so separated in my head once I start the painting process. It genuinely scares me that I know that if someone asked me casually what I meant by my latest painting I wouldn't be able to answer, because a lot of the preparatory work probably was done by thinking in images or loose strands of half sentences.

 Taking that infamous step back I think that not letting theory or original idea get in the way of the exploration would be the ideal goal - but not an easily obtainable one. There is always that duality in me; one part wants freedom and creativity, whereas the other just wants to be acknowledged and achieve technical brilliance. The theoretical, art historical part of me continues to oscillate between the two and sprinkle whichever project I'm working on with self doubt and insecurities.

Which is why I have posted about similar situations before, and this probably won't be the last time. I had originally intended for this "speech" to be left offline in my own personal archive, but I decided to publish it anyway, hence the second point in the blog post title.

 I seem to "write" in my head continuously. A lot of the time I know very specifically what I want to write about, sometimes I would try to figure it out as I go but not end up writing or publishing anything. Bottom line - I chicken out. I feel the world (the art world in particular) could do without my views, and that the insecurity of not knowing the reactions is enough to keep me from writing altogether.

 I recently thought, where does all this unwritten text end up? Is it heaped somewhere in my mind's external hard drive like a back-up version you don't really need, or is it deleted instantly leaving only faint traces of its existence?

 Of course you could say that the art theoretical/intellectually stimulating side of the text would suffer on behalf of sincerity and whimsical language....I'm working up the courage to not care.

This is exactly what I meant to say

Other people sometimes express better what I mean to say, so as a follow-up to last night's blog I give you a quote from Chuck Palahniuk's novel Diary. It's a kind of semi-surrealistic story where the main character is failed art student Misty Kleinman, and this conversation takes place between her and her boyfriend-to-be Peter Wilmot on their first date:

---
Peter gave her the blank canvas and said "Paint something".
And Misty said, "Nobody paint paints. Not anymore".
If anybody she knew still painted at all, they used their own blood or semen. And they painted on live dogs from the animal shelter, or on molded gelatin desserts, but never on canvas.
And Peter said, "I bet you still paint on canvas".
"Why?" Misty said. "Because I'm retarded? Because I won't know any better?"
And Peter said, "Just fucking paint."
They were supposed to be above representational art. Making pretty pictures. They were supposed to learn visual sarcasm. Misty said they were paying too much tuition not to practice the techniques of effective irony. She said a pretty picture wouldn't teach the world anything.
And Peter said, "We're not old enough to buy beer, what are we supposed to teach the world?" There on his back in their nest if weeds, one arm behind his head, Peter said, "All the effort in the world won't matter if you're not inspired."
---

"Be yourself, no matter what they say"

This could have been said (and probably have, too) by many people but I had Sting's line from Englishman in New York in mind. It sounds so extremely simple and logical, so self-explanatory and sensible. To put the words into practice is another matter.

How do you keep the balance between getting inspired by other people's work without unconsciously trying to imitate aspects of their work? Is it really possible to take part in the art world by working entirely in your own little bubble, shutting out any outside "noise" that would affect your ideas or make you reconsider your project entirely? And if you do choose this path, is it valid to work up a confidence about what you're doing, or is it a sign of naivete? Should you take control of your work, or let your work control you; that is to say, go wherever your work decides to take you?

These and other questions have been crowding my head lately - my facebook friends may already have noticed that I don't exactly have the best of confidence in what I've been working with the past few months. A long period filled with lack of ideas and inspiration, paired with inexperience with a new medium, hopeless dabbling with other techniques and topped off with a diabetes diagnosis that drained me of energy for a lot of the summer, culminated in a sort of mini-breakdown this past week. I felt completely lost and like I had nothing to do in an art world where originality and provocative qualities are a must - just the fact that I slap paint on a vertically placed canvas is enough to make me reactionary according to some. So the question that comes to mind is: Is it better to keep doing what I'm doing with a conviction that after all I'm following my heart and then nothing can go wrong, or should I move onto something else, in the hope that I'll have better chances of "making it" if I give in to what the critics, curators and experts consider to be groundbreaking and important in art-making?

Just by the phrasing of the dilemma I'm giving myself away - I feel like I have no choice but to go for the first option, but still I would ideally opt for something in between the two. The problem is how to get from here to there.

Lately I've been working on a painting which started out as an experiment in blurriness and abstraction, but turned out to be more of a figurative study reminiscent of something I could have made years ago, and it upset me more than I expected. Had I worked so hard for years just to end up at the starting point? One could argue that yes, it is just one painting and it is just a part of a long, experimental process; results aren't as important as the ongoing journey...and so on. Of course I can see the point in such statements, but as I am approaching my 26th birthday and people who are younger than me are already graduating from the Academy, I begin to feel like my chances of any accomplishment in art is next to none. And it worries me beyond words.

That said, I will try to update my web site soon, but as I've transferred the site files to a new computer and I can't remember my FTP password, I can't promise anything as to when it will actually happen..I'm also considering re-building the site in another software which makes it more low-maintenance. However since I'm also studying for 3 exams (last one will be handed in Dec 16) it might take a while - at least you know what plans I have for the site..I haven't given up yet.

It's the most wonderful time of the year...

Yes - It's almost time for exams again. In art history I have one April 27th (way too early as lectures started in February) and one May 2nd - I suppose that I, objectively speaking, have it under control, however there's one thing that's bothering me: Here the other day I was made aware of an art program on TV and I thought to myself - I can't stand to watch it. I'm sick of everything that has anything to do with art.

Ideally I should be drawn (pun not intended) to painting more and explore more visual opportunities, to counteract all the dry, complicated curriculum texts on semiotics, post-structuralism, psychoanalytic feminist theory and whatnot - but just looking at a paintbrush and seeing the paintings I've been working on for over a month already (getting nowhere), I feel a budding nausea.

A teacher once told me this kind of insecurity and hopelessness is extremely common and an "occupational hazard". However I don't think I've ever felt so completely drained of confidence in what I do, and I have no desire to leave painting or art practice behind to spend my days in an office writing essays that explore this-and-this as sign or simulacral readings.

So there you have my career crisis, if it can be called that because I don't have a career per se. I suppose I'm in need of some inspiration (and a lot of energy). So if anyone has any interesting art or art history related links to share, I'd appreciate it - comment or this post or on facebook :)

The Warhol effect

I can't help my fascination with Andy Warhol. It started when I watched the PBS documentary about him a couple of years ago, which made me think of him as more than a very weird artist who went out of his way to draw attention to himself.

Of course he did also give that impression, but for me, studying Warhol has given unexpected positive consequences. Right now I'm in a kind of drought in terms of ideas and inspiration (That is to say, I have no idea what I'm doing or why). But looking at early Warhol works, from his commercial art years and the coke bottle pictures for instance, helps to remind me that a little playfulness and sense of freedom in sketching is a very good thing - I often tend to take myself too seriously and put pressure on myself to create nothing short of masterpieces and in general be very result oriented, but here the other night I sat down and just played with a bottle of all-purpose ink and cheap sketching paper.



Some of them are not even ideas as such but just plain splashing of ink, which may not look like much but felt amazing to do just because I wasn't thinking about what I was doing.

On the subject of Warhol I've also volunteered to write a summary of Benjamin Buchloh's article "Andy Warhol's One-Dimensional Art" to present in the modern art class next week. (As much as I admire Warhol, right now I don't understand why I did that - I'm terrible at speaking in front of people) It's not a huge task and there's not that much at stake really - no grades or direct evaluation, but my chief concern is if I have actually understood Mr Buchloh's arguments right (Good thoughts/prayers on Wednesday gratefully accepted).

On an off-topic note; in terms of web site updates, I'm planning on updating the site within a few days, however the photos are not the best quality and I will replace them with better ones later.

dilemma...

A few months ago, like I mentioned in my last post, I started working with water soluble oil colours. I've now completed one painting with these new paints, almost finished with a second - and struggling with a third.

Apart from the smell these oil colours have the same properties of regular oil paints - easy to make smooth transitions between shades, a nice fluency, and it takes longer to dry; you can leave it for hours and continue to manipulate the colours without adding new paint.

However, the last few weeks I've wondered if the last point on the list is actually a good thing. The problem seems to be that the paint not only takes long to dry, it seems to not dry AT ALL. The painting I've finished was up on the wall to dry for weeks and when I took it down to wrap it in plastic and put it away, it was still not dry in places. The plastic glued itself to the painted surface like a magnet. It should be said that this particular painting is made up of half regular canvas surface and half textured (sand texture gel, plus modeling paste, both fine and coarse...) surface, and to get the oil paint to cover this grained surface completely I had to add unbelievable amounts of liquid paint medium. I suppose that could be the source of the problem.

On the other hand, should I refrain from using the liquid medium the paint still seems all but impossible to work with - dry, sticky and greasy at the same time, thick and unruly. So while in theory it's a good thing to experiment with new paints I feel slightly depressed and demotivated. One thing is to experiment - which I have always defined as a completely free, unafraid and enthusiastic approach to the work and not so much result oriented - but right now I feel like I'm just trying to do the same thing with oils as I did with acrylic and it's not working. I feel like I'm not doing anything productive or worthwhile at the moment, and at the same time the semester just started and I'm about to dive head first into a seething pool of heavy art theory.

Ultimately, I think I'm getting to a crisis of combining theory and practice - art theory/history teaches that there's a certain way to think about and practice art today (paradoxically they always seem to say that contemporary art history have several approaches and viewpoints, while on the other hand certain perspectives always seem dominant. Like the fact that aesthetic qualities are less important than relational and societal qualities, or in general a downplaying of the "aesthetic experience" which I find it hard to come to terms with), and when I see that I don't match that system in my so-called artistic practice, I get depressed.

So there you have it. I'm thinking of going back to acrylic paints for a while just to get some creativity and joy for the work back, at the same time I have some text ideas that might come into fruition.
Any advice will be appreciated.

New year's resolutions...

I think I promise myself twice every year that I will be a more active blogger. Not that it helps - I'm either too busy with studies or feel like whatever is going on in my life (related to art or not) is not interesting enough. However this year I WILL make an effort to update this blog more often.

I'll start with a recap of what's been going on since last time I wrote (which I see is April. Oh dear..)

-I never finished the Caravaggio-copying-test project, however it was fun while it lasted.

-I took a class covering art from the baroque to the present and got a B, in addition to getting a B in psychology

-I was part of a 3 day exhibition at CC Vest shopping center (photo below), it was a disaster in one way and a personal victory in another.


-I've temporarily switched the acrylic paints for a new type of water soluble oil paint that doesn't smell like regular oil paint but has all the other positive qualities. I'm currently working on (or have soon finished) two paintings with this new paint, for process photos see this facebook album.

-I've signed up for two art history classes (theories and methods of art history, art from 1950-2000) as well as social/personality psychology, and lectures will start next week

And as always I'm just trying to figure out the balancing act between painting and academic studies.. unfortunately it seems that the theory based studying makes it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the theory behind painting. Like deciding what to do next, defining what I'm actually doing. As mentioned above, lectures haven't started yet but I have already bought all the books and started reading (one of the classes requires the students to read a whole book in addition to several essays before the first lecture, and I realised that one of the theory & method books seems instrumental in understanding the essays in the other class.

And I'm rambling again, which is what I usually do, so everything's back to normal. I'll keep you posted.

Promise.

Another project update

Working on the face now.
...Caravaggio really knew what he was doing. Me - not so much I'm afraid. I thought the face would be the worst thing to do and it IS difficult but the instruments and the music book will be the real challenge I think. Especially the violin, with it's hopeless perspective.

Progress

This is how the lute player looks today, although very yellow because once again I didn't use the flash when I took the photo (I tried using flash and the colours looked authentic but too much light reflected in the varnish...), but I tried adjusting the colours in photoshop and it's the best I could do.

A little experiment

Since Easter is coming up and I don't have any lectures for two weeks, I have more time to spend on painting and art in general. A few days ago suddenly remembered how two different teachers at the two art schools I went to both reminded me of the education value of copying the old masters (or a painting I specifically liked) - Not for display but for the challenge of it and for practicing basic technique. At the time I was given this advice I was hesitant and more enthusiastic about finding my own style and doing my own work. I don't know why I suddenly came to think of it now - possibly because of the recent lectures on Italian renaissance art that really remind me why I love art history so much - but I decided that since I have the time for such a project now, I will take the opportunity to complete the experiment.


I've chosen Caravaggio's Lute player, which seemed suitable because a) I LOVE Caravaggio, and b) It's not a religious motive that I'd feel uncomfortable "tampering" with. This is what it looks like after today:



(I took the photo with the flash off so the colours look a little strange, even after Photoshopping.) Since I paint with acrylics and not oil, although with a few paint mediums added, I can't make it look like an oil painting - It looks more like a coloured pencil drawing at this stage. We'll see how it turns out - I will of course keep you posted about the progress.

Now for the boring info - another facebook album. I hadn't planned on creating a new one but I clicked a little too fast in the iPhoto export tool and it created a new album without my knowing it. Here's the link:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=381914&id=838195173&l=41f3eb5f68

I'm going to add a few new paintings to the web site later and also update the links page which has been stating "coming soon" since forever. Procrastinating seems to be my real talent..

My (new) life as an art history student

It just occurred to me that life as an art HISTORY student is very different from life as an ART student. It involves, of course, a little less freedom, but that's not all negative.. I think the main difference is the reading that's involved.

True, I used to read a lot in between painting the past few years, but this time it's less fiction and I have to make sense of everything I read even when it's in another language and written 60 years ago. The fun part is that I got so many books I had to move them into another bookcase (although "another" may not be the correct word seeing as I didn't have a bookcase in the first place, just a cupboard where I stacked them on top of each other).



So this is what it looks like now - already the lower shelf looks like it could break any minute.

Speaking of books, I suppose I didn't make it easier for myself by choosing literature as a second subject - I now have to read at least one book each week (in addition to numerous chapters of art history) plus a number of short texts and poems. I don't find it difficult to complete the books as such, but when I have to analyze and talk about what I've read in detail it's not always that easy.

That said, it's only been a few weeks so hopefully it will get better soon.

I also updated the web site today - just a side note; the painting I added a week or so ago may be replaced with a better photo documentation later. I noticed that with my cheap camera, documentation works best when I take the photos outside in daylight and it's been snowing lately so that makes it more difficult.

today's recommendation

I subscribe to a lot of art podcasts. A lot of the time the downloads seem to be piling up and I don't find the time to watch them all, but since Christmas is coming up, I have all the presents ready and consequently more free time, I decided to take today to catch up.

It was well worth it.

Among other things I came across a gem via the einfallsreich.tv podcast:

You Fade To Light, rAndom International for Philips Lumiblade from rAndom International on Vimeo.

More info about the project can be found here.

While I'm at it I can also recommend vernissage.tv and KQED Gallery Crawl.

Enjoy!

***web site down***

Just a few minutes ago a friend pointed out to me that my web site seemed to consist of "theatre stuff" and that I must have had the wrong link in my facebook profile. However it seems the domain has expired, due to the trivial fact that the web hotel company e-mails the payment notifications to an old e-mail address that I don't use anymore, and consequently I failed to pay before the expire date.

However it may have been a blessing in disguise. For the last year and a half I've been slightly embarrassed about the title of the domain and web site, because it is an old forum username that a few years ago became a part of my online identity. At this stage however I don't feel the need to "hide" behind a username to the extent that I used to, and so I would like to buy a new domain, with my own name, as soon as possible. My goal is by the end of the month so I'll take it from there.

Thanks to all of you who visited my web site and supported me, hope you will continue to visit the new web site once it's up and running!

Where to start.....

I suppose not that much time has passed since my last blog post (at least less than usual) but a lot has certainly happened.

To start with the bad news - I didn't get into the Academy. Which wasn't that much of a surprise, but it did still make an impact on my confidence; more than I was willing to admit at first. For a few weeks I admit I couldn't look at or even think about art or anything associated with it without feeling depressed. I'm feeling a bit better now, much thanks to the reorganization of my working place at home, and certain positive twitter comments (you know who you are).

Besides that, the positive news is that I have been accepted into the art history bachelor program at the University of Oslo. I am so relieved and so happy to be focusing on something art related and still getting a "proper" education. Studies start just three weeks from now, it's very exciting and a little intimidating, which I'm sure is just how it's supposed to be.

I will keep painting on the side and keep displaying my work on the web site, however the updates may be infrequent... or that is to say even more infrequent than it already is..

To finish off a post about so many different things I thought I'd post a link to a work by an artist I discovered recently and really like:

What would Simon Cowell say?

First of all, sorry I haven't written in a while.. for a long time I felt I didn't have much to write about, but now I have a very good reason - I made it through to the interview at Oslo Academy of Art. I'm one of 62 out of 405, which I can't grasp no matter how many times I say it or write it. As much as I'm flattered, grateful, happy and excited about it I'm also getting increasingly nervous.

Ok. I'm absolutely terrified.

I'm supposed to meet in the auditorium with the other lucky candidates for a quick briefing, then I'll get assigned to a room where I'll be working on 1 or 2 given assignments. At some point during the week there is the dreaded interview, which supposedly lasts 20 minutes.

I've never been through this before, it's my 4th year applying and I've never got this far. I feel like in a way I'm given false hope, cause I can't bring myself to hope that I'll be one of the 25 or so left after the elimination process. More than anything I'm scared (and rightly so) that my nerves will get the better of me and I'll mess it up, and if I don't get accepted it will be 100% my own fault.

So now I'm trying to prepare myself. I don't really know what to expect. I'm supposed to study up on artists, see exhibitions, prepare questions, google the members of the jury and what have you. Only I'm not supposed to come across as someone who's spent the last month studying up on artists and seeing exhibitions and basically being a walking art encyclopedia. Keeping that balance seems difficult. Should I seem confident or not??

If I were to think about the dreaded interview all the time I'd be going crazy. But like in all things with me I brace myself by preparing for the worst... I've already spent several hours writing down every thinkable question the jury could ask me, followed by my answers. While imagining Simon Cowell sitting in front of me.

I've heard all kinds of rumours about what the interview is like, about how tricky the questions are - even rumours that jury members in the past have had a sharp tongue like Simon. Which is certainly an interesting thought. What if I were to explain my love for a certain artist or a certain work and I'm met by comments like "that was indulgent nonsense" or "I don't like what you're wearing"?

Wish me luck. I'll need it.

It's the most wonderful time of the year........

Spring is just around the corner (though it's hard to believe because of the weather) and that means... application time. Never too early to start working on it.
So I signed up for an "application writing course" at school. I hope it's going to pay off but for now I'm just scared to death.

I've sent applications to the art academies for three years now without even getting through to the interview, but each year I convince myself I have a better chance than the year before. This year I have actually been told I might have a chance and that scares me even more.

But the thing that scares me the most is the text that has to be sent in with the application - apparently it's extremely important and has to be perfect in order to get you through to the interview. So in addition to tearing my hair out because the photos of my work turn out awful, and I'm stuck without any new ideas, I have to dig deep into myself and define what my work is all about and put it into big fancy words - though not too big and not too fancy, just big and fancy enough to make me seem interesting but not pretentious.

To sum it all up - I'm working on my applications, I'm scared to death, stressed out... and in need of a miracle.

Just a note

I now have a photo album on facebook dedicated to pictures of unfinished work, stuff I'm currently working on etc - before the finished work ends up on the web site.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=170274&l=7e579&id=838195173

Enjoy!