Over the years, my work has developed in distinct periods. One such period was devoted to artists and their lives. Many of these canvases were painted in the style of the artists themselves — Cézanne, Van Gogh, Gauguin, Rembrandt (on rough jute canvas), William Turner, or Goya.

In the beautiful film Bienvenue parmi nous (Welcome Home), the painter says to a young woman: “We look at other painters, we need their examples. Only after a while do we find something of our own.” That thought resonated with me deeply.

At a large exhibition at the European Institute in Maastricht, some visitors didn’t realise all the displayed works were by one and the same painter. Was that a compliment, or a sign of being unrecognisable? Did I lack something truly my own? I often disliked it when fellow artists fell into repetition.

Other creative periods followed — among them my Frida period, and a large series inspired by film stills: Frida, Girl with the Pearl Earring, Taxi Driver, Cape Fear (Robert De Niro), and more.

Many works also emerged from my years of travel: landscapes with and without people, or portraits from India, Nepal, Morocco. Some were projected into imagined islands of the South Seas — like Easter Island (The Discovery of Paradise).

In more recent years, my home region of South Limburg became the central theme, painted in a recognisable and personal style. Sometimes earlier motifs reappear, as in Goddess Demeter Visits Limburg after the Flood (July 2021). Canvases such as The Great Rains in Limburg, The Pickers of Limburg, and A Room with a View are the result of countless walks and wanderings through the beautiful local landscape — especially during the long, reflective Covid period.