Jeroen Paalvast

From a bird's eye view, the place where I was born is a collection of rectangles. The Westland: the city of glass. That's where it started for me. A clear and protected world. Where as a child from a horticultural family I walked freely among the carnations. In my youth the carnation was an innocent flower, now a plant with many symbolic meanings. I lived in Turkey for many years, but my homeland was always there, in the form of memories, thoughts and dreams. The carnation also regularly appeared as a motif in mosques and palaces. The tamed nature in the greenhouse was presented in a different light. The garden became a metaphor for how people with passions and duties live along the winding path of life. How much technique do you need to keep everything under control? I grew up with a stranger from Turkey in the barn. My children, at the same age as I was then, visited a now less strange acquaintance of their father in Aksaray. Later, Hamza will play a part in their memories, as well as the country he showed them, the country where it all started for him. The past remains the same, but takes on new meanings over the years. There is a cyclical and a linear movement going on at the same time. My father grew carnations; I am an artist. He set up a construction of posts, pins and mesh to keep a playful plant in line and let it bloom. My method to curb the chaos and to give meaning to my environment is by registering and recording everything, the present, but especially the past. When I draw and write, I look better. To get to know yourself, you need to map your family. This has resulted in an enormous amount of material: drawings, poems, short stories, paintings, photographs, videos and sound recordings. A growing living archive. My work takes the form of an autobiography. An autobiography connects the past with the present. The lost time becomes the preparation for the future work of the artist.