It might strike you as odd, but that is exactly what’s
happening: It is not me who finds the motives for my art, it is not me
who decides what to paint, which subject to chose. No, in fact my art is
finding me. Like stroke by lightning the unfinished works enter into my
head, sometimes wake me up in the night, push me to take brush, flex,
hammer, chisel or what material ever, bring me to an inner restlessness.
I then feel bulging and filled up near to an explosion. It is
seizing me like an addiction which strives for satisfaction. Outwardly
calm and composed, within myself bubbles a volcano which strives for
eruption. The inwards gathered creative forces, accumulated in a far too
small recipient, find themselves an expression in an explosion, urge for
Finding myself in such a state, I cannot stand myself,
it’s making me restless until I find the time to let the bomb explode,
to let the volcano break up through the hard stone and pour with flying
sparks into an incredible racket of colours onto wood, canvas or other
materials. Only then my mind
calms down until I am the composed one again.
My thoughts are getting confused, are mixing up in a
quick way, getting me to
paint or to work on a stone, a piece of wood or metal. Too many thoughts
at once inhabit my head, are shaking me in a way making it impossible to
grasp them all. There are too many motives I see at a time. Thus I’m
working instinctively, just going for it without tracing it out first,
without thinking. Just let myself being guided until the work is done.
Corresponding to the powerful energies flowing through myself, the
colour predominating my works is red.
While working, I must absolutely be on my own. Would it
be possible, I would fly by witchcraft onto a lonely island when finding
myself in such states. Thus my creative work is balance for me and balm
for my soul.
Artwork by Gunsch Patrizia