“There is no narrative, political agenda or body politics. There is nothing I am trying to tell you, I am not trying to convince you on a cause or make you believe in anything. I think what I am trying to do is to make you feel.”
PHOTOGRAPHY : JACQUI VAN STADEN
INTERVIEW: RICK DE LA RAY
AFTER YOUR DEBUT SOLO EXHIBITION THE MATT SPARKLE IN 2008, MARILYN MARTIN (FORMER DIRECTOR OF THE SA NATIONAL GALLERY) WROTE THAT YOUR WORKS WERE “UNASHAMEDLY MODERNIST IN INTENTION AND EXECUTION”. DO YOU THINK THAT THIS STATEMENT STILL APPLIES TO YOUR WORK TODAY?
Yes I would say so. I think so. I am unashamedly modernist. I don’t work with a specific context. There is no narrative, political agenda or body politics. There is nothing I am trying to tell you, I am not trying to convince you on a cause or make you believe in anything. I think what I am trying to do is to make you feel. When one looks at the work you should understand it but you should not know why. It should be like a song you know, a melody that gets stuck in your head. For me it’s more about an emotional experience. For me it’s about the heart, I always like to think that I am a composer in a way. The work is very lyrical and very rhythmic. There is a beat to it. So yeah by all means I am a modernist, but I am not living in a modernist age anymore. We have so many different influences and I think that just by painting, that already has its own inherent context. Just me being a painter in South Africa and painting modernist pictures is incredibly weighted. Whether I say something or whether it’s already layered with agendas.
YOU RECENTLY GOT FINED R3000 ON TWO SEPARATE OCCASIONS (WITHIN 5 MINUTES OF EACH OTHER) FOR DOING GRAFFITI SOMEWHERE IN DOWNTOWN CAPE TOWN. YOUR LINE WORK IS IMMEDIATELY RECOGNISABLE IN BARS, CUBICLES AND ON RESIDENTIAL WALLS. WHAT DRAWS YOU TO EXPRESS YOUR MEDIUM ON THE STREETS THESE DAYS?
I have been doing street art since I was in high school but no one has really known up until now. I never had a name or added a name to it. I did not want to be like a street artist, it was just something I love doing. I am very neurotically creative. Those lines actually have an interesting story. That comes from a Tarot card that depicts death riding a horse and carrying a black flag that contains a crimson rose, that line or squiggle is based on that rose on the flag that death is carrying. I got completely obsessed with the idea of death as a subject when I was doing a residency in Bazil, Belgium. I saw all of Jan van Eyck’s paintings and etchings and I did a lot of research into this. Death comes for everyone. Not even the king is safe from it. So I came across the death Tarot card with the crimson rose on the flag. The black flag is so symbolic in my life. It plays such a big part in my life and I even have a tattoo of it on my arm. A black flag is an anarchy symbol, a symbol of no state. It’s a punk icon and I can relate to that, coming from how I grew up with a very punk mentality. My sensibilities are very punk and anarchic. I’m very much against the status quo. Fuck authority. So that’s also why I sketch on walls because it’s part of the sub culture and that squiggle comes from that rose on the flag. The card itself also means ‘second chance’ or ‘new beginnings’. It’s not necessarily about death but about hope, which has a big meaning for me in my life. I’m attempting a second chance or new beginning. So within the line work there is a flow, a rhythm and a pattern to it. It almost becomes like a Buddhist mantra.
HOW MUCH DOES YOUR INTERACTION WITH SOCIETY INFLUENCE YOUR WORK?
When you walk around instead of driving you get to see a lot more details and you get to know the guys in the street. I can go anywhere in the city and be recognised by someone, most guys call me “whitey” and I have a bunch of gang affiliations. I happened to make quite a bit of a name for myself a while back when I was looking into the darker side of society and exploring a bit of the underground. I was drawn into this gang culture so I feel very safe wherever I go because I am a witness, a solid guy. I can vouch for it. My work comes from a very emotional place and walking the streets you realise how desperate our society really is and how fucked up and sick most people are, that obviously influences me. My work is like an outlet for all this emotion that is pressed up inside. It just builds up and then it becomes a release, I feel quite exhausted after I have done a big piece. It comes from an emotional place and I also want it to communicate what I’m feeling, I want it to reflect or mirror that. I’m not sure if I always get it right but I think I do because people do respond to it. Maybe not as intensely as I experienced it but there is definitely a resonance. My work is not always ‘Super Emo’ but it is pretty fucked.
YOUR WORK SEEMS TO EMBODY THE BURDON OF MANY MODERNIST PAINTERS BEFORE YOU. HOW DO YOU FEEL YOU FIT INTO THIS MOVEMENT?
I think I have that melancholy feel. My work is very much influenced by a lot of Eurocentric work. My biggest influence would probably be Kandinsky. The reason why I started working in a very formalist way was because I was just sick of all the fucked up art in South Africa. I felt that it was atrocious. It’s shit. It was a whole group of us and most of us came out of Pretoria, we work in a very modernist narrative. The only art that really resonated with me was from guys like Walter Battiss. The art was just boring and we were in such a volatile space, my work is volatile and it is aggressive. There is a lot of anger in it. But it is not about the anger, I’m just mirroring. It’s where I’m at and society definitely plays a role, about what’s going on around me and what I see and experience. I would really like to make work that is more Zen. My previous work was very quiet, almost like a silent scream in a way. My life isn’t Zen. My life is chaotic. I am fucking chaotic and unstable, but there is like a little bit of poetry in it and a little bit of quiet. I balance it. It’s very considered.
YOUR PROCESS OF DRAWING IN YOUR SKETCH BOOKS TO EXECUTING IT ONTO CANVAS – WHAT MAKES A PARTICULAR PATTERN OR DOODLE STAND OUT AND WHAT MAKES YOU DECIDE TO USE IT?
Like I said earlier, I’m quite a neurotic creator and I am constantly busy making something. Whether it’s doing Glitching work on my phone or drawing in my book. I always have an A5 in my bag and some pens. I always have something on me. It’s always my safe space in a way, a way I can subtract and where I can return to myself. My previous exhibition was quite specific (Some Kind of Nature), that work was very specific. It featured drawings that I made while I was going to bed at night. I would lie down and start drawing with the lights off, with my eyes closed. I would start making a sketch and then fall asleep, only to find out the result of the drawing the next morning. I called them my masturbation drawings. I did them when I was in rehab. I shared a room with people so it was quite difficult to masturbate. I started doing these drawings as a way to fall asleep at night. For me when I look at them there is a sense of artistic perversion, so within the drawings there is very much a feel of sexual frustration. But, it was also like a ‘surrealist act’ because there were times where I believe that I was already asleep and still drawing, purely in terms of a habit, which is very much a modernist ideology. These drawings then became large-scale paintings. Translating harsh scratch marks and having to recreate them in such a large scale is quite a feat. Drawing lines on an A5 piece of paper is very different to lying on a huge canvas because the entire movement is different. Having to translate that kind of direction, attitude, forcefulness, rhythm and flow. The paint is also thicker than pencil so it’s a completely different medium. I have hundreds of drawings which I revisit all the time. There are at least ten drawings that make up one painting. It would be a multiple amount of drawings that I would put together and then I would collage them in my head in a way. I would see which marks were good and place them on the canvas. It was a massive amount of planning going into them. It’s not just coincidental. Sometimes I do a painting and it just comes naturally from nowhere, I would just do it. Other times I would really plan it out and labour over it for months, making sure that everything was how I wanted it and how I envisioned it. I’m very anal when it comes to my paintings, even though they have that sense of rough anarchy. On the other hand I also like to hide that process in way, disguise it in a way, to fool people. All the layers contain a story of what you put into it. I love making a painting and then killing it, painting the whole canvas white again and then making another one, then killing it. Sometimes there are so many paintings on one canvas that you are not even aware of. It carries all this information that you don’t even know about. What’s lurking under the surface? There is a lot there you know. I find that very interesting, it’s a form of personal censorship. I’m censoring my own work in a way.
WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST MEMORY OF MAKING A CONNECTION WITH COLOUR?
I went to Pro Arte and painting was one of my subjects. For some reason I was taking a shitload of acid at the time and my paintings were horrendous. I painted like neon pink and greens, really colorful psychedelic shit. Hardcore colors and they were atrocious, but thankfully I don’t know where most of them are now. Everybody loved them because of this explosion of colour. Meanwhile, I was tripping balls! I got like 98% for my final year work and I was thinking about what I did wrong to lose that 2%. Did I spell my name wrong or something? So then after school I went to Holland to study and then I saw works by the old masters that were very dark and somber, suddenly colour became so powerful for me and I started really thinking about colour. You go to a proper museum and really start seeing painting and experiencing what this shit is really about. I mean all I had was the Pretoria Art Museum for Christ’s sake. Thank God for Pierneef. So colour became like an exploration almost and I think it was one of my lecturers that asked me why I paint out of the tube? Why didn’t I mix any of my colours, why do I keep them so bright? I was from Pretoria and didn’t know shit about art.
HOW DOES THE WORK COMMUNICATE WITH YOU, WHEN DO YOU KNOW IT’S FINISHED?
I always over work my work and then I have to kill everything and start all over again. That’s the fun thing about it because you can’t erase. It’s immediate. I have come to a point where I can’t see anything to add to it. The work communicates with me in a way, we have a conversation. I have in-depth conversations with my work and it’s like when do you know you have finished writing a song? Is it at 3 minutes? 16 minutes? When do you know it’s finished? You just know. Sometimes like in my last exhibition it was the first time that I just stopped, almost as I started. Where it was only three or four layers to the ten layers that I would have done in the past. It was like my pre-sketch became the painting. It was the worst time of my fucking life and it was the hardest show to put together. I mean being in rehab and trying to put a show together. I was now doing all the work sober while previously for my entire life I was fucked on something. My work has always had some kind of a substance involved in it. So suddenly I’m doing all of this sober for the first time in my life and it was fucking difficult. I felt like I lost a connection with my work, like a lost me in a way, who am I now? Substance has been a part of my life for a long time and has always been a part of my process. Sometimes Jonathan (Blank Projects) would just come and take them and tell me they’re finished. As I worked I would send him pictures and he would help me a lot of times and tell me to stop because it was finished or tell me it still needed something. I rely a lot on his input and he is a real guide in my life. It’s finished when I can’t do anything else on it.
THE NAMING OF YOUR WORK IS A VERY RELEVANT PART OF IT – HOW DO YOU GO ABOUT ASSIGNING A CERTAIN NAME TO A PARTICULAR ARTWORK?
I always think of stuff that I think would be a rad name for a painting and then write the names in my sketchbook. But, I seldom actually go back to those things. It’s actually something that I would not like to share really. A lot of people ask me this. The naming of my work is like a game I play with myself and I’m going leave it at that. I mean it’s interesting, like I said before in the beginning how it started out with the naming of the work. Most abstract paintings are names like “Untitled 1”, “Untitled 2”, etc. That shit is boring as hell and I kind of started to play games with the viewer, where the name kind of throws you off or gives you a completely different meaning in your head. How you try to put together these two aspects and it transforms and changes the way you see it because suddenly there’s these two to three words, that shifts the work you know. It shifts and opens up another side and something else happens, which I like. My paintings are not always so coherent and there is always something for everyone in there. But coming back to the name, back in the day I used song lyrics and titles. I think it started off with “New Empire Blues” (by The International Noise Conspiracy), one of the first breakthrough paintings that I made. It was exhibited in a new painting exhibition in Durban, in 2005.
OBVIOUSLY SIZE IS QUITE A FACTOR WHEN IT COMES TO YOUR WORK – DO YOU FIND THAT THE SIZE OF THE WORK HELPS TO COMMUNICATE THE WORK BETTER TO THE VIEWER?
Most of the smaller paintings are mostly just a palette for the bigger paintings, so I use a small one to paint a big one and then the small painting just kind of happens. That’s kind of what happens almost all of the time. I like doodling and it helps to see how colours relate and how they work together. I mean don’t get me wrong they are works in themselves but they act as sketches and would happen while I am working on the bigger pieces. It’s sort of like a little brother or place to clean my brush, very spontaneous. More free in a way and not as considered. I’m very comfortable with the large works because I’m a big guy and the painting just sits nice with me. I have a great eye for it and I’m really comfortable with the space I have to work on. I just feel very comfortable working in that size and it’s the whole modernist thing about grandeur and you need to make big ass motherfucking oil paintings.
IS ‘AVANT CAR GUARD’ DEAD? DO YOU THINK IT COULD OR SHOULD BE RESURRECTED, BECAUSE IT HAD A HUGE IMPACT ON ALL OF YOUR CAREERS AS ARTISTS?
It’s dead. It’s a dead artist. Avant Car Guard (Michael McGarry, Zander Blom and Jan Henri Booyens) was an artist and has always been one artist, since the conception of it. We decided it was one artist and that artist unfortunately died of a massive aneurism, a massive cancer. He was one my favourite artists. Anything is possible but let’s give it at least twenty years. It was very necessary at the time and it played a big part in all of our lives. It really helped our careers tremendously and shit got fucking weird like with any great band.
YOU’RE WORKING ON A LOT OF GLITCH ART OR DATA BENDING AT THE MOMENT. WHAT WAS IT ABOUT THE ELECTRONIC MEDIUM THAT APPEALED TO YOU AND WHERE DO YOU SEE IT FITTING INTO YOUR FUTURE WORK?
Well, before I was a painter I was actually a video artist and in my final exhibition when I did my degree in Durban I only had one painting. A really small painting of a veld fire and the rest was all sound and a video. I was mad into the new media at the time. I wanted to deny painting because I was very passionate about becoming just a pure media artist. But, unfortunately that kind of art does just not work in this country. Either the gallery assistants forget to switch the machines on or the projector gets stolen. I was a sort of installation artist. I did my first solo show at the KZN gallery called “Minor acts of violence”, which was basically a sound and video installation. So now that my paintings are solid and doing well I have time to explore my other passion again. I have been working on them for quite some time but have just never put them into the public realm. The first glitch I did was in 2008 and even when I was doing my videos I was overlaying video and taking away alpha channels and really destroying the image in a way. Glitches have opened up a whole new language for me in a way. I’m not sure where I see it going in the future but I am seeing it in the future. I have only scratched the surface of it. At my residency at the AVA I had some amazing glitch works and video mulching with the help of Jannes Hendriks, where we made an amazing interactive video. It’s just such a pity that his laptop got stolen and all the work was lost. I really don’t care if people think it’s as relevant as my paintings. It’s not important for me. What is important for me is that it inspires me and it creates a new excitement in me, it’s leading in a whole different way for me. A new language and its short lifespan, the art form has an entire new aesthetic. What I also love about it is that I am corrupting the image and the code of it, abstracting information. It has so much poetry to it. We live in a society where information gets corrupted all the time. I’m quite excited to see where it goes. You get Apps that can do it all for you but most my works are made in a data bending method. I open an image in a Hex editor like Notepad and I go to the code and I fuck around with the code. It is actually painstakingly difficult to corrupt it to a point where it is still readable by the device because it is so easy to fuck it up. A new process that’s been really inspiring is when I take the image and change it to raw data and manipulate it so that it is a .wav file. Using sound effects on the image to add reverb or treble and then exporting it again as data and making it into a JPEG again. You also have no idea what the outcome of it will be.
DO YOU THINK THE AGE OLD RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THE ARTIST AND VICE WILL EVER DISAPPEAR? IT SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN A PRETTY SYMBIOTIC RELATIONSHIP FROM THE START?
I think that it is an absolute necessity. Do you know any great artist that did not use anything and was completely sober? Artists have a very peculiar soul and I think for an artist of any form there is a melancholy and over sensitivity, vices just help with the drama. There is an inexhaustible desire to create and with that there is also an inexhaustible desire to destroy. I have questioned this a lot of the time. It’s almost as if it is a little bit easier to open the floodgates when they’re a little bit lubricated. It’s terrifying staring at this big-ass fucking canvas, this white fucking demon, and you’re like shit I have to paint something. But when you have a bit of Dutch courage it’s a lot easier to slay the dragon. It’s easier to slay the fucking dragon when you have chased some of the dragon… It’s also a romantic notion of the depressed or the distorted soul of the struggling artist. But art will always have its vice.
HOW MUCH OF AN EMOTIONAL RELATIONSHIP DO YOU FORM WITH YOUR WORK? WHAT DO YOU EXPERIENCE WHEN YOU LOOK AT YOUR WORK, PAST AND PRESENT?
It takes me back to a certain time in my life, like a diary of sorts. I can remember exactly what I went through, what happened and whom I was sleeping with. But it’s only a diary that I can read and only I know the meaning of it. It’s like a personal visual language that I have created. Where my head was at, at the time. I seldom revisit works, once they have left my studio they’re gone and they’re not my work anymore. I have that sort of feeling towards them, even though I put a lot of work into them. I don’t feel sentimental about them and I don’t feel like a part of me has left when they are gone. I’m an artist and it’s my job, I make works and they have a life of their own once they leave. I conceive them and then I send them to a foster home.
WHERE DO YOU FEEL YOUR WORK FITS INTO SOUTH AFRICAN ART MOVEMENTS, COMPARED TO WHERE THEY WOULD FIT IN ABROAD?
I think that my work is totally on par with what is happening abroad. It has been quoted that I did start a whole new movement, which is awesome. I have played my part and I have influenced a great number of artists in South Africa. I think I’m probably the dark horse of South African art, I think people find me maybe a bit difficult and they are a bit scared. I think I have a hectic reputation. I have been to prison a bit more than any normal person should in a very short period of time and I think people find that scary. I don’t find it scary. I find it enlightening.
WHAT MOVEMENT OF ART DO YOU FEEL WE ARE EXPERCIENG AT THE MOMENT?
I always thought of it as post-modern modernism. Contemporary art is already twenty years old, so it’s not that contemporary anymore. Art at the moment is very difficult because a lot of it happens on Tumblr. I call it Tumblrism!
YOU MENTIONED BEING EXHAUSTED AFTER WORK? DO YOU FIND YOUR WORK TO BE DRAINING.
When I make it it’s exhausting but not when I’m looking at it. If I felt drained looking at it, it would be terrible. It’s a mental exercise, it might look very easy but it’s a mental exercise and you kind of have to see into the future you know, you have to constantly be thinking of things like colour, perspectives, depths and the rhythm of it. What is it doing and how is it communicating, does it have a voice and what kind of language is it speaking? You’re constantly almost in a weird trance-like state in the process, where it’s just dancing in your head the whole time and that can go on for hours. It’s like any day job really. Once I start painting I can’t stop until I’m satisfied with it. I‘m really particular and passionate about it. God knows why, fuck I don’t really know why but for some reason there is something inside of me that’s like a painting demon that needs to be fed. I make work that I would like to see when I walk into a gallery, a house or a museum, or even a shack. Above all it’s work that I would like to see. For me it’s not about money and it never was about the money or being famous, or having a name. It’s about the work and at the end of the day it is about making a good fucking painting and that is important. It’s important for you to make work that has a soul that is sincere, that is solid and has a voice. It’s less about making ‘good’ work. It’s about making good art or bad art for that matter. I love making bad art. I think it’s fabulous and I think everyone should make bad art at least once! It’s like sleeping with a fat chick.
THROUGH YOUR LINE WORK AND SOME COLOUR REFERENCES I SOMETIMES FIND A GLIMPSE OF PIERNEEF AND THE LANDSCAPES HE PAINTED. CAN YOU COMMENT ON THAT?
Well you know when I was a kid he definitely had a big influence on me. I went through a whole thing with those Pierneef landscapes that were really angular and it was a massive influence. My grandfather was quite into his art and had a book on Pierneef and Cecil Skotnes. My family was like these weird Afrikaans people, they were for some reason cultured and creative. They come from Sasolburg and my grandmother was a beauty in her own right, making embroideries. They had a bookshelf filled with all of these old contemporary artists from back then. So the geometric nature of his work definitely had an influence. I went through a whole series when I was younger and it was very much based on those landscapes of his, when it became more geometric. He was a little bit ahead to me, in those days. But there is definitely a huge influence, especially with the line work and I was always fascinated by his landscapes. I suppose that’s why Avant Car Guard also went dancing on his grave. There is also Walter Battiss’ landscape drawings and especially use of colour that influenced me a lot. So I drew a lot from Pierneef, Walter Battiss and Cecil Skotnes. They were the biggest South African artists that influenced my work.
HOW HAS PERSONAL EMOTIONS AFFECTED YOUR WORK OVER THE YEARS?
Well, if you look at my show I did last year I was going through a really hard time in my life. I was a full-on junkie and I was suffering man, really having a hard time working and keeping my shit together. I just went into this downward spiral. Just going down the abyss and going into the darkness. I saw it, experienced it and painted the darkness. Those works are very all over the place but I still feel that there are some fucking amazing pieces in that series. That was the “Save it ‘til the morning after” which was another name to a song by Duran Duran. I also can’t work without music like “Some Kind Of Nature” is a song that the Gorillaz did with Lou Reed and that’s where that connection comes from so there is a huge musical connection. “Some Kind Of Nature” I almost solely painted listening to the last two albums of Mindless Self Indulgence. They’re really hard and super fast. Painting to me is like making a composition and there is a lot of music in my painting. Kandinsky was one of the first painters that started exploring Synesthesia, him and Stravinsky would do these collaborations. Stravinsky would make an orchestra based on a series of Kandinsky’s works or vice versa, so that really triggered me. My whole thesis was based on sound art, in some way I am also a sound artist but I just don’t have any solid evidence of it. One day I will find my voice in that medium but not yet. I can’t paint without sound. Especially punk music, that is very important in my work, my life and in my identity as a human being.
WHERE DOES THE ANGST IN YOUR WORK STEM FROM AND IF IT WAS GONE DO YOU THINK YOUR WORK WOULD STILL HAVE THE SAME SUBSTANCE?
It comes from Pietersburg I think, most of my angst comes from there. It’s a fucked up place. We lived there for a period of years during my informative years, when you start realising what the shit is all about. From about 11 or 12 until I was about 16, which is quite a crucial period. There and in Pretoria, because it’s so conservative. I think that is why so many great artists and creative people come from Pretoria. My theory is that because it’s such a conservative fucking NG Church influenced hellhole. There is angst and those Afrikaans conservative racist motherfuckers and all of that. Like when I was 14 I basically realised that everything I knew up until that point was a lie, my entire world. Everything that I trusted and believed was real actually just wasn’t. Like when Mandela walked out of prison and I saw it on the television, I asked my aunt who he was and she said he was a political prisoner. I asked her what is a political prisoner? For some reason I had never questioned anything up until that point and some sort of light went off in my head, I started questioning everything. What is government, what is freedom, what is the ANC, what is the NG Church and who the fuck am I? I started seeing black people and noticing them because before I was just living in this isolated bubble. So from that moment and through the years thereafter I came to realise things. Also my dad, he was never there or available, a miserable fuck. Only later in my life did he become available and we are great friends now.
WHAT MEDIUMS DO YOU WORK IN?
I work in oil paints with a lot of spray paint, which is somewhat of a contradiction in a way. Spray paint is sort of a conscious rebellion against the oil painting, like a ‘fuck you’ to the oil paint and its traditional vibes. You have these artists that are very particular about what solutions you mix, but I just paint. The only reason I paint in oil is because it’s an oil painting and it has an inherent value, it’s sad but it’s fucking true. If I painted in acrylic my shit would be worthless and that is the fucking truth, if I painted in just spray paint it would be worthless. But, oil painting has that inherent value and I use that to my own advantage, the colour and pigment density in it is just beautiful. I love the texture and painting with it is almost like having sex. You have that flesh and it’s oily and dirty, you sort of orgasm your picture onto the canvas. Like you’re corrupting the pure white of the canvas, breaking its virginity in a way.
WHAT IS IT ABOUT THE BLANK PROJECTS GALLERY AND THE OWNER JONATHAN THAT APPEALS TO YOU?
To me it’s the only gallery, it’s like a family and Jonathan has been through some knocks with me. Jonathan to me is almost more important than my own blood. For me he is like an older brother, he is a mentor and someone that inspires me. He has fucking saved my life man and he has literally taken me out of the fucking pits of hell and brought me back to life. I fucking owe him so much and he has been so supportive and really believes in me. You don’t find that with other galleries, he believes in me and he is so personally involved with all of his artists and he believes in them, what they are doing and he understands what they do. Where a lot of other guys just don’t have a clue. In his belief he manages to sell your work. He is also the only guy that was actually an artist. He studied art in Berlin and I believe that he still has aspirations of being an artist. It’s kind of like owning a record label in a way. Blank Projects is punk as fuck, it’s raw and that’s who I am and who we are. We are going to change the face of South African art. He is also changeling, he understands art and he knows what is going on in art. Whereas, a bunch of the other people just don’t have a fucking clue and are just in it for the money.
HAS YOUR WORK’S FINANCIAL GAIN CHANGED YOUR APPROACH TOWARD YOUR WORK?
TOP ALBUMS TO PAINT TO
As Jy Met Vuur Speel Sal Jy Brand
Confusion Is Sex
Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness