ON ART AND AUTHENTICITY
Welcome to a space of intimacy and exploration, shared reflection – a personal journal open for everyone. Public invitation into the inner, vulnerable landscapes that give rise to my art. Here you can dive into the architecture of an artist's perception. But this is not only a descent into subjectivity either. Here, together we will also explore the shades of value – artistic, emotional, sometimes even practical. Similar to those in the book Wrapper or on my Instagram. Within these articles, you will find practical insights crossing roads with personal reflections, objective perspectives grounded in subjective experience, and a vulnerable sharing of the very principles of authentic existence and creation. All is on the table in this articles and will be frequantly updated with new vulnerabilities.
The world presses down. And not gently. It’s not just one thing. It’s all of it: The chaos outside, the silence inside.
World problems. Personal wounds. Confusion. Bruises you thought had healed but haven’t. You carry it. It's your enemy. It’s not always visible. It’s that feeling you can’t name - its just there. The tightening in your chest. The weight in your gut. The sense that something is off. So you hold it in. Until something breaks.
Inhale contradictions. Opposing forces. All is dual.
The artist doesn’t escape that. The artist is that.
Every authentic stroke of creation carries a shadow.
Friend is also an enemy. Inspiration is also destruction.
You want to be yourself - raw, true, untamed, but you also want the applause. You want to be understood. You want to be liked. That’s not weakness. That’s the war. You were born into it. In dichotomy we survive. In dichotomy we predict, build, decode each other. It’s not a flaw - it’s the core processor of reality. Everything you know came from comparing it to what it’s not. So stop pretending.
Delete your fairytale. Forget what you’ve been taught to crave. Forget the myth of “closure.”
Forget the polite little arcs and moral takeaways.
Art that smiles at you while leaving your soul untouched, doesn't exist. If you think it does, then it's not art. It's just another shit. Disruptive Storytelling begins where the fairy tale dies, gasping for air in a reality too jagged to fit into three acts. It’s a refusal. Rebellion. Tool of rewiring.
Not because we want to be different for difference’s sake
but because truth no longer fits inside the containers. Humans are drowning in stories.
Art doesn’t crawl out of a hole gasping for air. Never. It erupts. It comes not from the starving, not from the scarcity cult, not from the hustle ’til-you-drop machine. It comes from too much. Too much feeling. Too many visions. Too many ghosts inside the chest screaming to be let out. That’s what art is. A surplus. A leak in the soul. A storm that refuses to stay private. Nature does it constantly. Look up - galaxies. Look down - snail shells. Look inward - impossible dreams and sacred wounds. Creation doesn’t ask permission. It spills. And so does the artist. Not to sell. Or to impress. But to give. Because when it builds up that high, you have to bleed it out.
Within each of us resides a teeming theater – a stage populated by the King, the Warrior, the Magician, the Lover, the Servant, the Fool… a pantheon of archetypes, and countless more besides, each tugging at our sleeves from the depths of the subconscious. Some, benevolent, seek to guide our daily choices, to illuminate the path forward. Others, shadowed and conflicted, attempt to undermine, to sabotage, to even, in the darkest moments, plunge a knife into our unsuspecting backs. Perhaps, in some forgotten corner of our inner history, we too have betrayed them, casting our own shadows upon their nascent forms. I believe, with unwavering conviction, that the ultimate destination of human evolution is wholeness. To assemble the fragmented self into a unified whole – this is the culminating task of existence itself. But to achieve this sacred wholeness demands a radical act of acceptance...