The twirling of hair, caressing of a cheek or the squeezing of a chest. Subtle acts of intimacy that are confined between the four lines of my bathroom mirror.
A tightly squished square, a vacuum. Blurry, soft limbs. Is it a penis or a tongue? A leg or an arm? Folds upon folds upon folds sucking you in. A place where subject like (the queer) identity, intimacy, the body and anonymity all come together. I approach my subject up-close and devoid them from its context to a certain extend. A search where commonness and abstraction create space for tenderness and eroticism. Hiding what wants to be seen, choosing safety over vulnerability.
With this as a starting point I paint and sculpt, looking for ways to materialize certain feelings and memories. Exploring traces that dwell on my skin or in a room. Traces left by others, either emotionally or physically, whilst at the same time investigating the relationship I have with my own body. Using imagery seen in gay dating apps like Grindr, fetishised body parts and classical paintings, I look for the borders where masculinity and femininity intersect withing this vessel of mine.
Anything the sun doesn’t touch
Because my mouth was already full
Helsche boosheit V.II - NEW RITUALS
Watersportweek
The rhythm of your breathing
13
Presence IV
Presence III
Flood
Pond(er)