torsdag 24 mars 2016

#47

I am looking through
and investigating my old photos.
I plunge my hands into the archive. 
And out come this pictures. 
Among a lot of other ones.
From past and recently. 




Krakow.

My first studio


Chicago.

Dublin. 

Överkalix

Sicilien.

Skapa Flow

Berlin

Kyoto

Berlin 


St Petersburg, then Leningrad.

On S/S Gothenburg. Red Sea

Uddevalla. 

Me a teacher. HDK. Then.

Rome

Nice

For and ADcampaign Gothenbur-Post.
Per Wahlberg had the idea and took the photo.

Gotland

Might be 1972


On the balkong. Dharamsala

1995. After heartsurgery.

Gotland.

Sicily

Havstens sund.

 
A pub in London
San Francis

tisdag 12 januari 2016

#46


Flipping through my files. Nostalgic.
Have I really done those pictures. 
Yes .. I must confess. In what context
 the drawing above was published ... no idea!
Sadness. Departure. Leaving. Neglecting.
Ending. Wishing.  

måndag 11 januari 2016

#45

A work in progress. 
Places, people.
Assembled between covers. 
A task for 2016

#44


This is David Bowie 

When he had a show in  Gothenburg 
GP published a
"David Bowie Supplement". 
I drew the cover 
Now he is gone, DB.

onsdag 25 november 2015

#43





En tidsbild. 
En teckning gjord och publicerad någon gång i början av åttiotalet.

söndag 22 november 2015

#42




An illustration for På Kryss
A magazine on yachting published in Sweden

lördag 21 november 2015

#41



Once upon a time.
Elvis or Tommy. 
Beatles or Rolling Stones.


tisdag 17 november 2015

#40


OK, då!

#39



Cambridge. A cold day. Snowing.

#38




From archive, I found this painting. 
Went to Egypt a couple of years ago.
Coming home I was so overwhelmed
by what I had seen. Something had to be done. 
I bought a big, for me a very big,
 canvas. And started painting.
Then I went on with another and another...
What is left is this.

tisdag 3 november 2015

#37

There are people
making this world a better one. 
And so there are people ....

tisdag 8 september 2015

#36




One day I came to Tuscola Illinois.

Why? A visit to Mr and Mrs Mayer. A farmer. 
The crisis for the Corn and farming in the US. Huge fields.
The horizon was in sight. For me the middle of the Praire. 
Stayed in a Motel, type Psycho. Visited the Sheriff, the Jail,
the Teacher, the office and Editor of Tuscola Journal.
Had drawings from the visit published.
Had lunch at Dixie Truckers Home.
Listened to a Pianola, Gershwin, Berlin and had
dinner at the Teachers home. 
Spoke to a very, very old woman who once,
in her youth had visited the Fjords of Norway.
Drank Budweiser, got drunk.
This was a kind of America I only had seen in movies.
I stayed three nights in Tuscola,
then we went southwards, Gert and I. 
New Orleans.