I paint like I’m breathing. I am always the same, and in a constant change. This is how I entered into the world of art and stayed alone on that path.
I’m not some “based artist”. Like, an artist from Poreč, or from Istria. I do not belong anywhere. At least I feel so, and the feeling is perfect. There is no drawer in which I will be drunk.
Very early, as a little boy I defined myself as a painter. From the very beginning I painted on the walls, benches, paper and in 1999. I graduated painting.
Today I live my boyhood dream wrapped up in this crazy time, in which we live, and I did not count on it when I was dreaming.
Formal education has been pushed as an imperative, as an alibi.Going to study art, meant for me leaving from the rows and throwing the rifle to take the brush. It was long ago, I almost do not remember the details. I think that being painter, is the job where you are most lonely, job by which I communicate with the world, and art frees us solitude. Some weird circle.
I want to do something in the art I can rarely do, something where the observer in front of my work lies outside the comfort zone, where they start asking if it is possible that.This is where I try to survive and create.
This idea takes me all the time, I have to admit, though it is, not easy, and almost every day I ask myself questions, which is the one and only answer creation. This everyday ritual gives me a reason for life. A ritual of constant learning, changing, choosing the toughest time, constantly asking questions, with a clean head and faith.
Inspiration is music. In silence I could not take the brush in my hands.
Inspiration is a written word. Inspiration is in history, religion, practically in everything. In my neighbors, which can inspire me for five new pictures. In the deserted streets and cities. Often at night, in my head I make sketches and ideas for the paintings. The images coming, sometimes they turn into dreams, and sometimes they move on to the canvas. Inspiration is in the history of art. Everything and everybody. Faces of people are like books. The face that meet the tide of life, and before it retires, I paint it. Figure as an inspiration. Painting tradition as a starting point and as a commitment.
I’m using all materials in the painting. All the techniques. Absolutely. After a long time I returned oil and I will stay there for some time. I do not have the favorite color. Blue and green are not my choice. Red is okay.
My paintings are like painted diaries telling me when I was happy, when I was afraid, when I was hypnotically painted … when I was hungry. When I succeed I will be twice happy. Because of those who believed and those who doubted.