I grew up in Bergen, a small artist village in the Netherlands, where I was surrounded by painters and creatives. From a young age, I was already experimenting with paint and materials — some works I proudly sold, others I left by the roadside without regret. The pieces featured here are the ones I chose to keep.
Now, years later, they’re ready for new homes — perhaps even yours. As an emerging artist, I often heard that I should develop a personal style — a clear artistic “signature.” But I found that this search for a fixed identity often came at the cost of creative freedom. While trying to define your style, you risk ignoring new ideas and directions. That, to me, felt like a loss.
So I allowed myself to explore. I’ve always jumped in different directions, fascinated by all forms and techniques. The result is a body of work that’s diverse and difficult to pigeonhole — and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Looking back, I’m glad I never confined myself to a single path. That would’ve been far too predictable.
Long live change.
Most of my works are on the larger side, so shipping is arranged in consultation. I work with professional art couriers; delivery time and cost will be determined based on location.
Back in the ’90s, we were all deep into “Brand Fucking.”SHELL became HELL, Coca-Cola turned into Cocaine. I set my sights on CHANEL. It started with painting an oil drum, boldly marked with CHANEL No. 5. This painting with the cross is a continuation of that spirit — a visual response to the madness that surrounded No. 5 at the time. The perfume became almost a religion, the brand an obsession.
At the core of my work lies the ongoing reinterpretation of my “Icons” In this piece, I rendered the Gunfish in gold leaf against a background of “Bergen Grey” — a shade of grey that was first introduced to me as a child by Matthieu Wiegman, an artist of the Bergen School in Holland. He taught me how to create endless variations of grey by mixing ultramarine blue, burnt sienna, and white — a lesson that has stayed with me ever since.
This piece is part of my “STREETART” series. These abstract compositions blend a variety of techniques into a dynamic whole, enriched with stencils of my iconic figures — my “Icons”. My affinity for graphic forms and abstraction is clearly reflected throughout the work. The layering and interplay between structure and spontaneity giverise to canvases that radiate optimism. They never fail to bring a smile to my face, time and again.
This piece is part of my “STREETART” series.These abstract compositions blend a variety of techniques into a dynamic whole, enriched with stencils of my iconic figures — my “Icons”. My affinity for graphic forms and abstraction is clearly reflected throughout the work. The layering and interplay between structure and spontaneity give rise to canvases that radiate optimism. They never fail to bring a smile to my face, time and again.
This piece is part of my “STREETART” series.These abstract compositions blend a variety of techniques into a dynamic whole, enriched with stencils of my iconic figures — my “Icons”. My affinity for graphic forms and abstraction is clearly reflected throughout the work. The layering and interplay between structure and spontaneity give rise to canvases that radiate optimism. They never fail to bring a smile to my face, time and again.
This is an older work of mine where abstraction takes center stage.Yet unexpectedly, a graphic form emerged — a fried egg. Sometimes the figurative asserts itself, even when it’s not sought.
This is an older work of mine where abstraction takes center stage.Yet unexpectedly, a graphic form emerged — a fried egg. Sometimes the figurative asserts itself, even when it’s not sought.
For a long time, an empty frame hung on the wall of my studio.It became a silent witness to the space — an absence that grew increasingly present. One day, I decided to capture that moment. The photographs reveal the wall as it was: weathered, marked by time, quietly transformed. I printed the images on dibond and reworked them with acrylic paint and a transparent varnish.The result is a new layer of meaning, where the photographic and the painterly, the graphic and the abstract, once again converge.
For a long time, an empty frame hung on the wall of my studio.It became a silent witness to the space — an absence that grew increasingly present. One day, I decided to capture that moment. The photographs reveal the wall as it was: weathered, marked by time, quietly transformed. I printed the images on dibond and reworked them with acrylic paint and a transparent varnish.The result is a new layer of meaning, where the photographic and the painterly, the graphic and the abstract, once again converge.
