Adding Carla Bley´s “Musique Mecanique” to itunes. Sitting in my basement office, watching the nabour cat shitting right outside the small windows.

Adding Carla Bley´s Sextet to itunes. Marie-Louise (pregnant in 7. month) downtown, meeting friend Countess Alice Wassard, discussing child stuff. Alice and her husband the only ones from that region of my social life, that buys art. Just sold her a hunting rabbit in clay. ML collects the money from Alice and then transform the cash to shoes and jewelly. Recording Carla Bley: Social Studies. Reactionary Tango. Daughter Rebekka, 11, 12 i may, turning really beautiful, calling mobile. Home from Harzen, winter vacation with her mother. No snow, but swimming pool. Got a rash from the clorine. Mountain walks, finding pink crystals. Sending her snapshot of ML´s stomach. Jesper Gam is calling. The day starts. Gam´s friend, the muscle man, wants “1000 Ties”, another large painting. One of the last non sold paintings from museum show, “Bad Nerves,” at Horsens Kunstmuseum. While recording The Orb, the OCD shows its ugly face. Will have to clean cloth hanger or it will cost terrible diseases or even dead to my family and me. The fight starts with the neurotic fantasies and I´m slowly losing concentration. Getting the first wave of depression. And its only 12.44. All the sad things in life comes up, the psoriasis,.. Thinking about the 10 trips to The Dead Sea, the unfaithfull situations with flaking girls in the tar camp. Particually the young italian who I met on the float, showering our salt of, still out on the float, in the burning sun, with Jordan in the horizon, the tar turning lighter and less smelly. After about 30 minutes of silent walk towards the hotel, her hand in my trunks in the elevator, her father being out from the hotel, watching some ruins in the Sinai desert, from a rented Fiat. Why didn´t I look this fresh shoe selling girl up in Italy? Other memories, all of them including females. Will have to clean the cloth hanger and find some concentration. Also: ML will be back soon. The pain from the psoriasis starts to hit my spine so I need to stand up. Mobile: The muscle man thinks the painting is too expencive and want to turn the situation into a persian market place. I´m writing back that the price stands without discussion, but that we can add an genuine Mont Blanc fountain pen (somebody forgot in the atelier month ago), -stupidly testing his humor. He agrees on the price, anyway.

Back from the terrible OCD cleansing of an completely innocent cloth hanger, had lunch, two pieces of rye bread with a thin layer of cheese. ML called on the phone, on her way home. Hope for a little intimacy later on, a little foot massage might be awarded. Checking incoming mail: The mecanic found my missing summer wheels for the MINI Cooper S, that I just sold, which again means that the car dealer can make the final order of the new Audi A4, 3.2 quattro, that I will have to pay a fortune for, with a 180% taxation on cars in this country. But with no sign of a catastrophic situation in the danish art market, I dont think much of it. Another mail: The library who were interested in “Can I have a Spoon?” sculpture in bronze, is backing out, suits me well, will rather sell it to Mr. Mathiesen, the founder of “Mathiesen Watches”, in that way the royal family will get to see it, close friends, as Mathiesen are, with the queen and her prince. My shoes are hitting the wheels of my office chair and there is now a new OCD problem. My shoes are not supposed to hid the wheels of my chair. Could be dirty with “something”. Second wave of fear and self punishment: Why didn´t you stay in San Francisco (27 years ago) when the oppurtunety was there, You could have been the new Richard Diebencorn, the italian shoe girl and her tits like spikes, Should have gone to Italy when she called and told me that she was sitting in the bed wearing white stockings, do I spoil Rebekka with the endless line of gifts when the pocket is full of gold, and so and so on. Can hear ML upstairs. Will have to clean office chair wheels. Watch “Lonesome Dove” or something. Running up the stairs. ML had a haircut! The long red hair is now short and sticky from all the gel. Looked better before.

Walk in the “Dog Park”, a park close buy, where dogs can run free. Sun is shining. Conversations about name for the girl that will arrive in may. Kiki my no. 1 name. Or Mikkeline. ML in doubt. Lets see. Back home: Lunch, DVD, ML suddenly goes on top of me, rubbing my tights, getting an “girlschool orgasm.” More DVD. Not so much OCD. Quiet sunday. Sleeps all through the night.

In the atelier. Been here for an hour. Mobile call: Mr. Gam will arrive with muscleman Kim, at....NOW! Fortunately everything is in place. The painting “1000 Ties” are ready for Mr. Kim. They arrive, and in something like 45 minutes I´m selling 4 paintings. Everybody is happy. They pay in cash, so it´s like real money. My tongue feels like a carpet after the speed talk about the intension of the work. I´m now literarily running around like an frustrated preditor in the Zoo, up and down the stairs in the 2 floor workshop. Lots of, TONS OF OCD cleaning, but in a tempo like a whirlwind. Gladly done. Takes me only 30 minutes. Around 11.00 AM, the 4 new bronzes arrives, and they are just so beautifully done from the caster, who also delivers the work. The patina is even more perfect than I ever expected, and the caster is just so friendly, he sits on the floor and explanes about the process, how the iron chloride works, the yellow brown base, and so on. I dig these handcraft guys with all their material knowledge, and the way they can sit on the floor, and later on maybe smoke pipe tobacco in the car. I sign up for 10 more sculptures, a big economically decision, but it will work. Calls up the Mathisen family. Positive. This will be easy. Lunch, and ready to go home and rest, but after lunch I start to dig into a half finished painting, and the hours slips away. Another painting finished, and then another. Got the work fever and I´m walking on air, nobody can beat Me! No OCD, just fields of colors. Next costumers will be here at 5.30 pm, very late. At 4.30 I´m again rearranging the place, paintings on display. This time its The Carlsberg Foundation (Carlsberg Beer). Great responce, 2 works sold, each 6x6 ft. What a day at the races! Leaving the building, shaking from all the pressure. Home, having 2 glasses of red wine as the first thing, drinking it fast to make it hit more. But then the OCD wants its bite of the cake. And it wants a big bite. In front of ML.

The fight starts, and ML gets all upset and scared, stop it! Get help! I´m pregnant, you´ll have to put an end to this MADNESS before the kid comes! But the tiny flakes of psoriasis that I just discovered on the floor will have to go. GO! Later on: Bad sleep. Paints in the sweaty dreams. Rushes of adrealin. Wakes a 3.45 AM. No more sleep. This is a nightmare.

Lars MøllerWitt from Gallery MøllerWitt calls. When he calls this early its usually good news. The Golf club in Jylland accepted the scetch I did for them, a figurative drawing of a golfer, constructed from golf balls. They want me to change the male golfer into a female golfer, which is easily done with 2 extra balls, hahaha. The job is in house. They also buys 2 7x7 ft. abstractions. Going to the studio. There are this half done painting that I can do nothing to. I´m placing the minor energy from half a night of sleep, in a tiny little canvas with My back to the 8x10 ft. large one. In this situation the solution suddenly comes out of the blue. Tried it before, sometimes this “blue” feeling, this “running on empty”, is very constructive. With the right color on the bruch I turn myself to the big one , and a little later the work is done, as an supernatural incidence. Because its been done rather fast, compared to the other paintings that stands around in the workshop, its very fresh, almost like an gigantic comic strip colored drawing. Eating lunch with the photographer Niels Jensen, next door. His costumer, this day, burned him off, so he can take shots immediately, at 2. 30 PM the fresh painting, and several other works from the last week, is in the box. Home. ML announces that her sister, sisters son and their mother will arrive the coming week-end.

I´m now getting bad tonsils. Grumpy the rest of the evening, not so mush because of the family visit, which for sure will be good news in Rebekka´s ears, but more this feeling of being sucked out, all guts gone, I don´t no. Goes to bed early, with bad tonsils and no guts, although My stomach sticks out like an oriental fruit, bad boy, baad boy,..bad night, up at 4 am, no more sleep. The thoughts about the OCD and what to do, works like a drill in the head. Strange images appears, like a freak show with living furniture. Hungry. Goes down in the kitchen. 3 cops of Nes and some rye with cheese.

Bad tonsils turns into the flu, its epidemic these days in Denmark. I´m really sick. Bad timing, shall pick up Rebekka from school. No sleep, the flu, Rebekka already talking about new shoes. This needs a strong back. MLO stressed about the family, me being sick, and so on and so on. As another idiot I goes to the atelier to meet a trucker who will be there to pick up some of the sold work. And I´m in the paint trap, while waiting for the transportation, I start to work. 5 hours later I pick up Rebekka and friend Frederikke, and goes home. I know this will cost me a little week in bed.

So sick that I can´t drive Rebekka to school, we agree to take the day off. She is a 100% sweetheart, serves breakfast and helps ML baking cakes and watering the flowers.

Gets a shock when I see Myself in the mirror: Face like a mouth breeding fish, an infection in the psoriasis, tried it before, but never this bad. Back to bed with a good book, sleeping on and off. Suit me well, in a strange way. Know I will recover soon, and also that I can stay up here while the house is full of people. Later on, 2 PM, I can hear the car door slam outside. The 2 women in big black furs, the mother with the biggest hair in Denmark, but surely a former smash hit. The sister being the copycat of the 2 daughters. The 2 women look like black bears, a strong wind blews and everything is in grey colors, sand in the air, biting cold. Nicolai is there and Rebekka and him will be playing on the Mac in a few seconds, and I will be able to hear them through the bedroom door, so nice and cozy, slowly drifting into the fever sleep. Happy.

Feeling much better. Adding The Tony Williams Lifetime´s “Turn It Over”, to itunes. John McLaughlin on guitar. Dark ages seems over. 100% nice day at work. Started up 8 new canvases, 2 of them big size. Floor work, the dripping fase. Kindergarden. On penicillin, My face start to look normal. Called up a shrink with a speciality in OCD. The BEST in this matter, he said. What a jerk. Told Me that HE started painting when he was 8 years old. So he´s also an artist. And that his heavy smoking would be a challenge for me ( I hate cigaret smoke), and other crabby stuff. He´s out. Trying to make drawings, but there´s no connection between brains and paper. Better finish for today. A pile of curled up paper money, in a shoebox standing next to the computer most be hided somewhere. Feeling like a boy scout Soprano. There´s 2 workers ripping our garage to pieces, right outside the window. Their money soon. Drops by accidence Radiohead´s “In Rainbows”, on the floor. Dirt and hair on it. Throws it away instead of cleaning it.

Sold another painting. The success with the sale is a good tool, makes the work look more sharp, because I trust in Myself. And I´m taking more chances , which is also good. But there´s no international success, unfortunately. Tal R got out, maybe Michael Kvium will get out, his gallery thinks the new market is the chinese market. Dinner tonight. Must rest and then shape up.

Dinner with former Princess Alexander and her new husband Martin, the photografer, in the Mathisen Junior home. She´s asking questions, he´s saying nothing. She´s very sexy, half chinese, half austrian. Lots of name dropping. Getting tired from all this, don´t want to take part of it anymore, to be honest. Because nobody digs Bob Dylan, when I´m asking. But off cause: At the opening nights and parties, it´s a killer when some celebrlty gives you a hug in front of the crowd. As usually in these stiff circles, I´m drinking too much, pure nervousity, and ML pulls My sleeve at midnight.

Terrible head ache, hang over, must have pills, must eat something with salt and sugar, white bread with cheese and tomato ketchup all over it. Feeling like shit inside and outside. My hair smells like an ashtray. Why is it only the middle class that can stop smoking, at least in this country? Fortunatelly I fall asleep when the pills starts to work.

At work again. Missing Rebekka. Calling her up. She´s playing a hockey game. Melancholic. She´s so big now. New paintings on the floor, a thick layer of lack coding the chinese ink, which I´m using for the first splashes. Now ready for oil. Love the atelier which is big and atmospheric. Hang over, but it´s okay. Checked with ML, didn´t insult anybody yesterday. A little bragg ass, though. Got to be a bragg ass sometimes. Somebody at the dinner party told Me that his free time occupation is to go visit some cherokees on the planes. He looked stoned. One time, having a show in London, I met the guy who found Titanic, I told him. The cherokee guy turned, and left for more red wine.