Selfie from last year. This totally looks like a mug shot, I almost wish it was. But I do have some mojo going on.

My mojo has been missing for a long time but I am finally beginning to feel it seep into my veins again. I’m starting to feel playful and horny while working with my art and that’s the way it’s supposed to be. Lust and passion are such important components in my creativity and it creates this sexual energy that feeds my imagination and ambition. I love it. It makes me feel powerful, potent and alive. I’m so dependent on my mojo – to be ‘mojoless’ is almost painful for me. It’s almost like I get sick when I lose the connection to my sexual energy. So, I need to stay connected to it.

I think mojo is such a natural part of the human energy – we are driven by two needs; to survive and to propagate our species – the mojo is a necessary energy for both needs.  I choose to celebrate it. To put it in my work – and load my core with it. Although I am so connected to my mojo, I lose the connection very easily. It happens when I start to doubt myself, when I lose myself to other people’s expectations, when I compromise my artistic expression – or when I feel censored by my own fear or by other people’s judgment. I just have to be more careful with my mojo and keep my shape intact and not letting other people mold it to whatever they want me to be for them.

The mojo makes me feel electric in both my body and thoughts and it keeps all my parts connected (mind, body, heart, soul) and therefore I am able to be me to the fullest. I think that kind of soft and invisible electricity is a beautiful experience and it’s also so natural – since our brain is wired through electrical impulses (and when the doctor tries to resuscitate the heart, they use electricity). There are so many fascinating and natural energies that people seem to forget about. We should learn how to harness them and to create something incredible with it – for ourselves and others. We should all start ‘mojoing’ more. Mojoing when we are alone. Mojoing together with other people. To let those electric butterflies fly.


Mojoing, 2010

Fighting for the invisible world underneath our skin

I’ve spent the recent days at various clinics to visit both doctors and dentists. Since I have such a deep fear of dentists, it’s hard for me to get the necessary treatment. It’s been a scary ride, but at least I am feeling better from the virus infection.

I’m still thinking about the thing Johnny asked me the other day – if I’m a rebel who is fighting for or against something. I’m still not sure.

Maybe rebels are always inevitable fighting both for and against something. Fighting against old system of beliefs. Truths. Patterns. Rules. Injustice. And fighting for a change. For a new set of ideas. Visions. Freedom. Compassion.

I think when it comes to me, I am fighting against my own past, who I was forced to become, who I was in the eyes of others, their expectations of me and roles I had to play to be able to survive, but also against bigger things, like the castration and the censorship of female sexuality, humiliation, abuse and disconnections. I am fighting for the freedom of the soul, for people to be able to be who they are without feeling shame.  I’m fighting for our core voice to be heard, to celebrate the sexual playfulness, the survival of the inner child, the expression of our demons, fears and anxieties – I’m fighting for a catharsis of the heart – to get rid of the darkness other people have forced into the our pure hearts. I’m fighting for the acceptance of our precious  vulnerability – the source of love, empathy, intimacy and creativity.

People usually label my art as “Lowbrow-popsurrealism”, “creepy-cute”, “dark but with a sense of humor”, “perverted and funny”,”raw and playful” or even as “art brut”. But most people agree on that my art is an expression of something real about our inner world – even though demons don’t really exist in real life.

Bacon Colored Demon

Bacon Colored Demon

It’s that realness of the invisible world underneath our skin that I want to fight for. This is why my demons are without skin. The invisible world inside is just as real as the one we can see, touch, smell and feel – and I’m trying to add all those dimensions to it through my art. My mission is to fight for its voice, heart and soul. The body-less body inside. The heart within our hearts. The texture of our souls. The burning and radiant core of our existence. To me, all these elements of a human being are part of our magic and it’s just too beautiful to ignore. Since I have a talent for seeing these things,  the invisible and vulnerable world underneath our skin, it would be a crime not to express them through my art and make them visible and accessible to other people.

I’m a rebel of the world of delicate rawness, love, light and the pureness of our natural sexual energy.



A friend made this for me a few years ago, after I’d posted something about ‘looking for my mojo’ on Facebook, it made me laugh

One of the most elusive and mysterious elements of creativity has to be the mojo. I have been searching for a good definition of the word but I can’t really find one that fully explains this invisible source of good vibes and magic. Perhaps it’s individual, or at least expressed in very different ways – on a stage, in the spotlight, at the dance floor, in an act of seduction, persuasion or as the driving force in a creative expression. For me, it’s a combination of sexual energy, confidence and being true to my nature – when I feel connected to my core and let it speak. Loudly.


Portrait of my mojo at work


I always feel the mojo pumping in my veins while I am painting and when the expression feels just right

When I feel my mojo working, it’s like there’s a warm, electric stardust rushing through my veins while I am creating art or writing – and that’s when I feel like I am becoming one with whatever I am working on. When it gets a life of its own. That’s when I feel like I am giving birth to something incredible that never existed in the world before I put it there. Something magical and more real than reality. My mojo isn’t always there and it’s hard to predict when it will be present and when it will leave. You can’t take it for granted.


Trying to find my mojo, during the creativity blockage, 2010

When it’s not there, the creative flow isn’t there either. The work becomes a struggle or at least a little less fun. The magic isn’t there. The results lack energy and potency. When I finish a painting without my mojo, I don’t feel that sense of release or fulfillment. I can see that it’s finished, I feel done with it, but it’s like I gave birth to something stillborn and lifeless.

Examples of works where I felt my mojo working and where it was missing:

Mojo (left) vs no mojo (right)

Mojo (left) vs no mojo (right)

Maybe I’m being a bit over-dramatic, but I don’t think I’ve understood just how important mojo is for my creativity process. And it’s so connected to my sexuality. The mojo feeds off my sexual energy and my sexual energy feeds off my mojo. Like a cycle made of silver sparks and pink flames going round and round inside my heart, mind, soul or wherever it is located inside me.

I often feel sexually aroused when the mojo is working. It’s like the mojo is absorbing the passion I feel for creating art, the inspiration I’ve collected in my mind, the lust I feel to express what’s inside me and the intense focus of the creative process – and then squeezing out the most delicious juice that turns into some kind of magic energy. That’s when I feel closest to life. And to myself.

The importance of mojo


I never understood just how important my sexuality is to me. As soon as I lose my sexual energy and drive, I close myself, lose my mojo and I get passive and depressed – and in the end I lose myself completely. I need to acknowledge it, every day, celebrate it and use my sexual energy in everything I do. Even if I’m not a very outgoing, adventurous person, I  have a very wild core. It’s all about finding ways to express it, to let it breath. I’m grateful that I have finally come to this realization.