I am in search for the holy grail for as long as I’ve gotten myself involved into art.
By the end of a long journey in various media and in writing, it turned out that I had to create this holy grail myself, every day all over again. A bit of a downer of course. So I buried the inner critic (in person of a rabbit) together with my identity as an artist.
For a few years I studied philosophy to see if Hegel was right, and art indeed was dead. That ‘natural’ language would be enough to realize freedom after all. I was rather enthusiastic about this whole idealistic way of thinking.
It was by the time I met a Jehova’s Witness, that I started realizing the possible dangers. She showed me the Bible’s logic: you’ve to assume that God is alive, otherwise the whole system collapses.
The power of assumption has great effect, if you’re willing to accept a certain ground, such as the existence of God, or Art as such.
By then I understood the recursive power of language games. And we all believe some stuff. So, as I got confronted with my own ‘religious thinking’. I realized that Eve was the hero of Genesis. The Jehova’s witness however, said that God wouldn’t forgive her and that Eve wouldn’t be welcome in (‘soon to come’) paradise on earth.
Well I think it’s the bloody snake and God himself who tempted her in the first place. Since the temptations are there, we might as well learn to deal with them.
The act of believing and how conviction works, that became my new subject matter.
The dead artist kicked and screamed now and then, but I tried to ignore her (by that time human twins were born, they came out of my belly and screamed even louder).
I started writing about an artist who was writing a book about artworks that only existed in the story itself. One day it turned out that I had to test some of the ideas in a language of a different type, visual language.
Step by step I crawled back on earth to become a dead artist, alive and kicking.
But hey, I decided that as finally we are getting nowhere, we might as well have some fun. And then the critic in his coffin started laughing: humor turned out to be critical too.
 Finally we are getting nowhere (Fwagn). Name of a band formed by Peter van Drunen, Jan-Willem Versaevel and Jacko Boonman.