Not conventional drawings (I also do those), but compulsive carving and scratching. I’ve started calling them ‘stabbings’ since the gestures performed when I make them resemble, I think, the act of stabbing someone (perhaps oneself).
This series of six stabbings, made in one of those tiny notepads found in hotel rooms, were executed successively during a particularly difficult evening of the last week in Antwerp.
When I look at them in progression, it does seem to me that I’m reaching for something, but don’t ask me what exactly. I’m not well when I do these. It just feels better than hitting your head against a wall. And as I get more and more tired while scratching, I start to feel a bit calmer.