What an amazing story, Henrik!! Yes, the compulsion to create is real, whether someone likes it, reads it, appreciates it or not. The compulsion to be free, that's what it really is.
What an incredible thing, also, to find this story where you live. There were people on that island just like you, so inspiring.
I dream of a retreat of people just like us IRL - dead and alive :))
Thank you for writing! Best regards from Stockholm!
I loved this piece - I felt a physical sensation when the theme of art was revealed, which is also when I realized that one of the earlier photos - the rust-colored statue that made me think "huh, am I the only one who sees this?" - was not an accident but a hint. Wonderful essay!
I have a big love for that world, too! I used to be a programmer, and many of my friends work in research or tech—I think these spheres are more closely connected than people often make them out to be.
I'd be interested to hear more about your take on that! I've never lived in the art world, so it's a blind spot for me. Part of what attracts me to your writing is the pragmatism you bring to describing these murky concepts; I wonder if it comes from your time as a programmer?
You’ve taken me right into those landscapes and the awe of discovering the sculptures en masse where he placed them. I’ve made sculpture out of green sewer pipe. It’s a wonderful experience.
I wish there were more stories of outsider artists that did a lot of good work, were never widely recognized, and weren't particularly bothered by the obscurity. A decent amount of artist neurosis could be alleviated if the colloquial understanding of artistic success shifted from wide recognition and renumeration to the much saner parameter of consistently making the work you like to make.
A beautiful essay, a journey, really, with you and Johanna through island time and space. I spent too much of my youth focused on "the art world," coming only lately to the strangeness of allowing art making to follow its own paths. Simultaneously untethered (to "culture") and more wholly lined to reality as it flows through me. Did you ever name the sculptor? I think you did not, I would guess intentionally. Curious about while enjoying the gesture.
The peace of creating a life in alignment with your values and true self. I love to see an artist who is so generous with themselves and trusting in their own impulses. Thank you for carrying this story from the past like a pail of water to us.
I think I really appreciate when you dive into the depths of the struggle that living on the island has been for y’all.
It both grounds the dreaminess of your life in an important and true reality, which is good for the reader. It also deepens the beauty of a story like this. If this same story was written by someone without struggle, it’d be much more surface level I think, or at least deep from a different perspective. Your struggle earns a unique angle, and we value that angle.
This essay and story reminded me of the artful way and explorations of John Jennings Harris (jjh.org). Thanks for reminding us that artists can show us the way to make lightning and inspiration strike more than twice in a location.
"I found much more comfort in the stories of artists who fixed toilets but never got famous, and who did it anyway."
This is an immensely comforting sentence.
At 73 I'm finally comfortable with not having an answer to "Why do you write?" other than: "Because I am a writer." Period.
There is no other reason.
What an amazing story, Henrik!! Yes, the compulsion to create is real, whether someone likes it, reads it, appreciates it or not. The compulsion to be free, that's what it really is.
What an incredible thing, also, to find this story where you live. There were people on that island just like you, so inspiring.
I dream of a retreat of people just like us IRL - dead and alive :))
Thank you for writing! Best regards from Stockholm!
I loved this piece - I felt a physical sensation when the theme of art was revealed, which is also when I realized that one of the earlier photos - the rust-colored statue that made me think "huh, am I the only one who sees this?" - was not an accident but a hint. Wonderful essay!
As others indicate, this essay is beautifully written, and I am now better having read it.
I love your writing. I'm from a completely different world - technology, efficiency, process - but somehow your writing has a resonance for me.
I have a big love for that world, too! I used to be a programmer, and many of my friends work in research or tech—I think these spheres are more closely connected than people often make them out to be.
I'd be interested to hear more about your take on that! I've never lived in the art world, so it's a blind spot for me. Part of what attracts me to your writing is the pragmatism you bring to describing these murky concepts; I wonder if it comes from your time as a programmer?
You’ve taken me right into those landscapes and the awe of discovering the sculptures en masse where he placed them. I’ve made sculpture out of green sewer pipe. It’s a wonderful experience.
That can be an art form, no?
Definitely! It's just that specifically art galleries and sculptors and such are a world I've never lived in.
Thank you for the footnote. It made me happy to think that circumstances improved for this hardworking and visionary man.
I wish there were more stories of outsider artists that did a lot of good work, were never widely recognized, and weren't particularly bothered by the obscurity. A decent amount of artist neurosis could be alleviated if the colloquial understanding of artistic success shifted from wide recognition and renumeration to the much saner parameter of consistently making the work you like to make.
A beautiful essay, a journey, really, with you and Johanna through island time and space. I spent too much of my youth focused on "the art world," coming only lately to the strangeness of allowing art making to follow its own paths. Simultaneously untethered (to "culture") and more wholly lined to reality as it flows through me. Did you ever name the sculptor? I think you did not, I would guess intentionally. Curious about while enjoying the gesture.
The peace of creating a life in alignment with your values and true self. I love to see an artist who is so generous with themselves and trusting in their own impulses. Thank you for carrying this story from the past like a pail of water to us.
I think I really appreciate when you dive into the depths of the struggle that living on the island has been for y’all.
It both grounds the dreaminess of your life in an important and true reality, which is good for the reader. It also deepens the beauty of a story like this. If this same story was written by someone without struggle, it’d be much more surface level I think, or at least deep from a different perspective. Your struggle earns a unique angle, and we value that angle.
Thank you for sharing. Hope you’re doing well!
Didn’t realize how much I would benefit from a forest penile stroll this morning.
This story sounds out of this world. Probably like the landscape around the sculptor farm.
Do you think the farm will become an exhibition, Henrik?
This essay and story reminded me of the artful way and explorations of John Jennings Harris (jjh.org). Thanks for reminding us that artists can show us the way to make lightning and inspiration strike more than twice in a location.