Here’s what it look like outside of the new gallery and art studio last night. We had a couple of dozen invitees, a few good friends and some art-curious passerbyers join us for what turned out to be a very lovely grand opening.

I’m often naively optimistic, which is probably a good thing. But re-teaching myself or re-tooling my mind to create de-constructed, non-figurative images is proving to be a lot more challenging than I expected. The Resurfaaced project has definitely helped remind me of my younger years as a non-figurative painter. But all those years as a reasonably skilled photographer are also making it hard to not feel and express what I can’t see through a traditional “lens”.

The strive for an aesthetically pleasing composition has become so deeply ingrained, that I have to work hard to free myself from such limiting constraints.

From time to time, I can almost hear how new neuro pathways are being created in my head as I force myself to veer off the path where structure, planning, and met expectations ultimately lead to boredom and indifference.

I am slowly making my way through the mental and physical hurdles that painting has thrown at me during the last few weeks. I can feel a less anxious, less insecure approach and noticeably more fluidity when ideas pass from my mind to my hand.

Much like with writing, the only thing I know for sure is that what I create in the very beginning will likely evolve and perhaps even go through a complete metamorphosis before I’m satisfied with what I’ve created.

And that’s what makes painting so much more interesting (and inherently challenging) than photography. There is no moment to capture, no idea so strong that it can’t be budged or shift shape, color and elements.

But you know what the best part of being in front of a giant canvas again is? That it’s not a screen. The fact that I am spending less and less time in front of a computer feels wonderfully liberating.

If you visit this page with some regularity, you know that one of my many weaknesses is the classic shrimp sandwich. I don’t remember when this life-long love affair began, but I’ll wager it was well over 40 years ago. I don’t eat them as often as I used to, mostly because a well-made shrimp sandwich has become really hard to find. At Lisa Elmqvist the other day, my daughter Elle and I relished in what we both agreed was possibly the best shrimp sandwich we’d ever eaten. The portions were just shy of preposterously generous, the hand-peeled shrimp were plump, perfectly salted, deliciously juicy, and chewy.

This legendary restaurant has been around for close to 100 years and is located in one of my favorite Swedish food markets, Östermalmshallen. This over the 135-year-old indoor market is in itself a multi-sensory pleasure well worth experiencing.

The service at Lisa Elmqvist is unequivocally top-notch. However, since the restaurant has always been super-busy during my visits there, the servers have next to no time to present the dishes they serve or even spend a little time interacting with their guests. Which is a pity as that would certainly have added to the culinary delightfulness.

Regardless, I still think this is one of Stockholm’s best casual restaurants. And if you want to treat yourself to a luxurious shrimp sandwich for lunch or dinner, preferably with a glass of chilled Chablis, Lisa Elmqvist will certainly not disappoint. Highly recommendable.

Elle took this selfie yesterday on Riksbron, the ancient bridge that leads to the Swedish Parliament building. It’s been 5 years since Elle and I went on a trip together and after some back and forth, we decided to return to one of our favorite destinations, Stockholm.

Shot this Resurfaced artifact in the Georgian capital. While at the gym this morning, I heard a BBC report from Tbilisi that caught my attention. The ongoing protests near the parliament (which was near where I stayed when I was there) are about new, authoritarian legislature focused on quieting journalists and media outlets from reporting critically about the government.

According to a couple of the protesters interviewed by the BBC, the suggested new law is in sync with a pro-Russian movement and designed to please Putin and potentially ease the way for a future re-annexation. Since Georgia is vying for EU membership and most citizens would prefer to distance themselves from Russia, this is not good news. Currently, 20% of Georgia’s internationally recognized territory is already under Russian military occupation. 

I know I say this about a lot of places, but I really do love Berlin, even in early March when winter is still firmly gripping this mostly grey, gritty city. What Berlin lacks in color and aesthetic consistency, it easily compensates eclectically with exceptional vibrance.

As with most metropolises, Berlin is not very representative of the country in which it is the capital of. Sure, the basic German societal structural stuff is here, too. But the famously rigid Recht und Ordnung coexists symbiotically, if not friendlily, with a level of capricious chaos and reasonably peaceful anarchy I’ve not experienced in any other German city. Come to think of it, in any city I’ve ever been to so far (342 and counting).

Every visit to Berlin feels both liberating and inspiring. And even as I grow older and my interests and needs evolve, I still find plenty of stuff to keep me coming back. Currently it’s the contemporary art scene along Augustenstraße in the Mitte district.

Much like New York and to a lesser degree London and Paris, what I think makes Berlin so remarkable is the longevity of its allure. Much of which is achieved through a unique,  indiscriminate ability and fearless inclination to evolve and reinvent itself as times change. I love how Berlin refuses to be defined, be boxed in or become boring. Which is a frame of mind I can dig into wholeheartedly.