For a year now, i have been working on a series of paintings of houses and interiors. What I do in this project is visualizing rooms and homes from my childhood. I have gone into my friends houses, gone trough wardrobes and magazines in their parents bedrooms, sat down at the table in our neighbours kitchen, in the empty houses.

I try to paint the cigarette smoke in the walls, the darkness in the long hallway, the telephone ringing, the unfamiliar smell in a friends house, old conversations and strange atmospheres. (That is, things without a clear visual manifestation.)

I have no idea how close my paintings are to the objective world, if the rooms in my paintings look like the actual rooms. I´ve got no photo reference.

Instead I see these paintings as entering into myself in a way. Into rooms created by my memory of situations in my childhood; Inner, psychological (non-physical) rooms.

So they are interiors, rooms, homes and furnitures. An inner landscape trapped in a one floor brick house, built in the late 1970s.

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