We have the most beautiful planet in the Universe. A source of joy and happiness. A precious treasure. But most of us don't see it. We are fools. A bit more humbleness would fit us well, and carefulness, and caring, and loving ... for our cozy rabbit hole, the pale blue dot. And for each other, because it is all we have.

My art strives to express the believe that we live in a very confusing mix of realities and convictions, and that personal well-being comes from developing an appropriate mental model that maximizes your expected fitness payoff.

Our life may be a straight line, upwards, towards more freedom, more self. But only in the ultimately free situation, I realized that pure freedom will never make me happy. It is the restraining and comforting presence of other people, of the world, that ultimately brings fulfillment.

According to Plato we live in a reality that is not the real reality and we must try to see real reality. That is the purpose of philosophy. I say, yes, we must see the true nature of reality, but our distorted perceptions of reality often are very beneficial.

Developing your own artistic voice is a process. Some artists never complete it. Being - relatively speaking - a starting artist, I am still in this process. But ... this seems to be a big step forward.

Artificial Intelligence will change the practice of the artist. For good. Photography didn't kill art. So won't AI. But, as photography has changed art, so will AI ... dramatically. More and more, from now on it will focus art on the human factor. Art from now on will be purely human.

The Plateau of Rivers region of the Sahara desert contains about 15,000 pieces of rock art, made by societies between 12,000 and 3,000 years ago. It made me think. In 3,000 to 12,000 years from now, what will be remembered of our society?

My personal believe is that people who long for a greater life often are lonely. Maybe, they are not alone, but they feel lonely. I strongly believe that we are a deeply social species, with a deeply social brain.

I find it difficult to have a love relationship with an artwork. After all, any artwork is banal dead matter, a piece of canvas and dried paint, a piece of marble, metal, whatever. Still, people do fall deeply in love with artworks. How does that work?

First, I was caught by the Vincent Syndrome: a good artist must be poor and suffering. Now, I know better. Maybe the very best old master who ever lived, Rembrandt van Rijn, was a successful artist-entrepreneur.