The eye can travel over the surface in a way parallel to the way it moves over nature. It should feel caressed and soothed, experience frictions and ruptures, glide and drift. One moment, there will be nothing to look at and the next second the canvas seems to refill, to be crowded with visual events.

As a painter today you have to work without that essential platform. But if one does not deceive oneself and accepts this lack of certainty, other things may come into play.

In my earlier paintings, I wanted the space between the picture plane and the spectator to be active.

For me nature is not landscape, but the dynamism of visual forces, an event rather than an appearance. These forces can only be tackled by treating color and form as ultimate identities, freeing them from all descriptive or functional roles.

I used to build up to sensation, accumulating tension until it released a perceptual experience

I work with nature, although in completely new terms.

I think this lack of a center has something to do with the loss of certainties that Christianity had to offer