/ Please do not correct the grammar, spelling or capitalisation. Text is intended to be imperfect and unstructured. I guess architecture was not enough for me. It was not subjective enough. Also it provided me with all the comfort and security. Big glamorous life 5star marble hotel lobbies with gigantic chandeliers and 2 my own personal assistants .. my ego was definitely much more satisfied back in the day when I was still working as an architect — who am I? oh I am an Architect! :).. life was good but soul was numb. Surely we are sent here in our bodies separated one from another for a reason. I believe selfishness is pure human essence. I am painting because it is selfish thing to do.. like all - drinking, sleeping late or fucking without commitments… Stop! Embrace yourself! Here come thoughts of “depth of human connection”.. “value of relationships”… “responsibility“ :) and other arrogant and judgmental stuff. :)" "
At this moment I am sitting in McDonalds, listening to some over-dramatic music while some dick at the table next to me is peeking in my screen. It is almost midnight. I love to come here and work at late hours. The smelly chaos of Bangkok streets outside. Rats, cockroaches and gay-male hookers triumph over mountains of smelly garbage… and me, here sitting in this sterile environment where my civilised existence is disturbed only by the bunch of sweaty drunk
foreigners interrupting fog of cheep burger stench. " "
Back in the day I started to paint mainly because I was afraid to loose my mind.. I did not have any agenda.. I just wanted to get a relief from the never-ending drumming in my head. I started to paint when I was in Latvia. The environment was suffocating me. I just returned from China, where I had couple lives, a few different groups of people knew a few different tall Latvian guys (also sometimes I was from Sweden.. or Finland..) so here I was.. back in my small northern country town, being stuffed back in my small well developed personal profile with culturally appropriate face crushed back to my skull… and right after my return I found out my first lover in China got HIV - my only thread to “reality” and one of the few family figures that truly knew me. I found some relief in painting.
I do not like “art”. I do not like “artists”. I believe that everyone is an “artist”. I understand that this is 4th sentence I started with I.. and it is for a reason. I am afraid I do not paint to make world a better place., or share “my inner world” with others.. I just do it to remain sane. We are all selfish. and thats OK.
Life is amazing.
Everything around me that creates “feels” (feelings) is inspiration now: perfectly developed neverpooping Facebook girl profiles; retired, most likely well respected, western sugar daddies with their fifteen year old boyfriends in local cafes; the way the hypocritical hippy-world-explorer guy eats his McDonalds burger right in front of me… or maybe just a nice sunrise at 5am over beautiful smoggy “City of Angels” skyline .. I find inspiration in everything that makes me feel. From my early personal works I only like the paintings that were done primarily with “feels”.. mind was a destructive force. I could never fix or improve my works after the initial craze of emotion escaped however lately I have been trying to tame the mind and let it work with “feels”. Also there is still a lot of Marriage Counselling that needs to be done to reach the iron union.
I have been lucky with having right people around me at right time to speed the process up.