in this series, i try to document myself through objects. the objects are a collection of what makes me me, and alltogether this assembly makes up a portrait of me. it was inteded to extend the discussion of the theme of in what extent i, as an artist, am my art. as i wanted to show all these things that make up my practice as me, as if all that i am is my practice.

however, it also taps in into the earlier started discussion about the pretentiousness of the artist.

because secretly, ofcourse, i am not those things. i am not the objects in this assembly. i don't shave, i don't paint, all my plants die. i've never read those books on the shelf. i don't even have a studio practice really. my art is everything but objects, so even the assembly of objects is pretentious in a way. pretending to be someone i'm not. pretending to be the artist i could secretly never be.

this last realization is but a coincidence. i did not intend to make this portait about pretentiousness. but precisely therefore it is a good example of it. because i wanted to pose this assembly as a portait of me. and only now at this very moment, while writing this, i realized that i'm atually not this at all. and that presenting this as my selfportrait would be the biggest scam ever, again confirming my inherent pretensiousness.