Originaly I'm from Uppsala, but I've been living in Stockholm for 20 years now. Someone quite recently asked me if I ever had a "real" job, and I said yes... but really meant no. Ok, I taught painting courses for a while, and occasionally worked as a teacher, but painting became from the very start - I was 18 I when I began - my sole ambition.
The act of painting may be wonderful, but to be a painter and find ways to survive in that occupation is less so. When you are supposed to list your past exhibitions on a formula, (utställningar i urval), I usually write "Lots of them". This of course is a way to avoid the question, but it's also damn true: I've exhibited a lot, trying not to worry too much about what prestige the occasion may or may not have. (How to swallow your pride should be in the curriculum of all art academys...☺)
Insofar as I have a career, you can say it's a hilly career. First it goes up (I sell paintings, I get accepted to exhibitions, I win prizes) and then it goes down (place "don't" into all the above). There seems to be no particular reason for this. The feeling of throwing dice has never left me.
For a long time the play of shadows falling on to surfaces (facades, walls, etc.) was a great inspiration, almost a trademark of my art. I still use shadows or light effects, but less rigidly. Both nature and architecture are a constant source of ideas, and so are the works of other artists.
Domen konstskola, Göteborg, 94-96
Konstfack, sthlm, 96/99
City and Guilds of London Art School, 05-06
My upcoming project is what it always have been - finding ways to sell my paintings. And in my world that means to exhibit. Now the world of digital platforms may offer other ways to sell. Of course this world is not totally unknown to me, but still I've not looked into their possibilities enough. Hence this application.
I paint almost exclusively with oil on canvas.
Before I start I always have a picture in my head of the painting at hand. Not only in my head - to have made at least one sketch is important to me, even if this sketch is incomprihensible for anyone except me. A normal painting takes a few days, sometimes a week to make, and during this time my original idea seldom remains intact. It is as it should be; that way the work remains exciting.
To say that a painting is never finished may be a cliche, but as in most cliches there's some truth in it - I rework older paintings a lot.