First of all, I was searching for a new form of expression in my art. Although I always worked in series (the view of a photograph) I wished to find a new structure, so that I could develop a concept. I started to paint again after a long break (finally, I could rent a studio). On my last small oil painting (twelwe years back) I had worked for a whole year. Now I used acrylic. I painted one of the first series only in yellow and black. They just mirrored the subtle aggressivity I was exposed by the psychological terror attacks after U.B. left me, but not left the house yet. We still lived for one year and a half under the same roof. She finally moved away on my 33rd birthday. /What an unforgettable present!/ Anyway. During this time, I tried to deal with the merciless understanding - nobody is your own. Those paintings were strictly composed within a square, divided into nine pieces, mostly inspired by the hieroglyphs of the Maya's. But that was not exactly the form-language yet, I had imagined. I needed something, I could develop in noumerous variations within a system. I was reading (I don’t know how many times) Plato’s Symposium. „ And so each is always in search of his own token..“ Eureka! I got it. That was the new challenge, the visualization of Search. First I created a net of circles, I dissected them, I atomized them, that I could connect their segments in a completly new nexus. That’s the point. Just like in writing. There is no word, which is not written yet. However, the way you put them together to a sentence, the global structure which follows your idea, so that it get transformed into a never-ever-seen, that’s the nexus. I joined both with each other. The words and the circles. I designed an alphabet (on my first computer) from the circle segments and started to write the words /the message/ into my paintings. So I painted them. Through the letters the system was origined, through the nexus the coincidence. The coincidence of the system, the strong system of chaos. Each painting got an important part in it. Seemingly I needed this kind of system, as my life got splitted up in thousand pieces. Everything I had believed in was obliterated. The bubbles of happiness and safety had bursted. Only through listening to music and through the meditation during the seemingly monotone painting did I find the inner harmony, so I could make peace with myself. During the eleven long years of loneliness I did undergo step by step my own metamorphosis. Circles. Nothing than closing circles. The story will be repeated continuously (da capo al fine), the return into the protective womb, to the origin. No way out, the invisible strong closed line does hold and embrace you soothingly. Before I could get aware of it, I did find myself suddenly in the middle of my own circle. I was surrounded by an invisible shell, filled with memories. I was swimming bodiless within my own limits, defined by me. The circle whirled only around me and was closed around me. I locked myself in voluntarily. Within my circle I was safe and protected, nobody could hurt me anymore. Nobody could get in it, and I could not get out of it. I created the icon of my own egocentric world. I was in the circle, and I myself was the circle. No break-out is possible from myself. As I realized, that I captivated myself, it was almost too late.
JESTOFUNK • CAN WE LIVE