1966 - 1969  

Three years of paintings - leaving the prison of convention, stepping into the freedom of light

The three and the cave: 1966 

Hallucinating on romilar. Do I look like a horse? My friend Poul Erik says' so - I fall down on the bed behind my two friends - a lump of earth drifting in space,
it burst open and a green arm shoots out with a human figure at the end slowly turning into a white organism - I look back at my friends dancing in the cave
from where I came. Two flames, cozily love making, while I am wittering in the empty nothingness. From where comes this burden?

Road towards the light: 1966

I move through layers of despair, but there is light if I just pass through.....

Season of the witch: 1967

Leading back into the onion face - maybe a sidetrack, what is hidden in the head?

Thoughts on the road, heading up: 1967

Light at the end of the tunnel

The Trip: 1967

Observing the world of layers dissolving, opening up - a quest where images merge into one.
They dance into the goal I have found.

The Moon - Bob Dylan - Highway 61 revisited: 1967

I have painted the Moon with Bob Dylans' profile - It is still there and makes me crazy each time I look.  
'And you don't know what is happening, do you Mr. Jones?' 

      Symbol no symbol

Desolation Row: 1967

Cosmic desperation trapped in the sound of the brain - over an old painting of skeletons walking across a meadow.
So dark these fortune tellers scream - traveling on the vision of sound. I do not dare to listen out of fear of new pictures blowing
my mind - as I have no money to buy paint and canvas. If I have to work getting money, how shall I find time to paint?

 Holbæk - frog eating a stick   

Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band: 1967

The painting was born listening to the record in 1967. Hearing the Sgt. Pepper tune on the B side I saw cystral drumsticks shooting out of a void towards me
beating the rhythm on the drums below. From the rhythm the painting grew in colour and form, visions related to the different numbers of the album.

"Good morning"  is the rising Sun with a path leading in. "She is leaving home bye bye"  is the road at the right side of the painting with tall houses on both sides taken from Bob Dylans' Freewheelin cover.                                                                                                                                                                       

John Lennon is seen above - his ear opening to the music - his intellect a psychedelic madness moving in and out in a fascinating labyrinth dropping down over the history of England. Below you can cross the bridge into the world of flowers looking for "Lucy in the sky withdiamonds".                                                    

George Harrison is to the left in a world of eastern meditation with sunrise and Moon landscape - a desert landscape where the sucking sound of rhythm in "We were talking about the space between..." is the white glass cylinder hanging suspended in the air mowing up and down the crater.                                              

Poul is spaced out in the rainbow above the big open drum wherein Ringo is, peeping over a fence into the magical world, having not yet decided whether to
'blow out' flow in or not - "I am fixing a hole where the rain gets in.."

Little did I know that during the following year I would be sitting in Rishikesh meditating with both John and George, though I went there with the hope of meeting Donovan, but he had already left.

The bridge: 1967

'It takes a lot to laugh, it takes a train to cry.' Bob Dylan

Crossing over the brigde - ready to take mushrooms or mescalin cactus - wandering into fairyland flowers - talking - breathing - in and out of the castle.
The music gives me hope, they call it flower power. I lie on my back listening seeing the flow of visions, and then I paint.

People get ready: 1967

It is night and I am waiting for my friends to come - we are all on a move. Dawn of a new age - inside the painting like in a childhood tale.
Throwing the black coat of convention off my shoulders - the priest in black, causing me to faint with his strangling white collar of claustrophobic institutions.
We have wings - I can fly - all is possible - free - going East towards the Sun.

On our way through Turkey in a small volkswagen bought for 300 d. mark in Hamburg, we are covered with snow, no heating inside but a joint on the back seat 
in a sleeping back is ok. - exept for the driver. 

Stopping at chai-houses with a secret room on the roof for heavy smoking, Sigmund is showing his new watch blowing the mind of the locals - not for sale - maybe? In the meantine the car is fixed - first one tyer, then all four are flat and have to be fixed. The small front side window-lock is also broken - an iron bar
is weld across the glass - 'No one gets in this way mister.'  Mountains all around and Erzerum ahead of us.

From Teheran the road is a wild desert "road" moving East, we can see one car is driving in same direction but a few hundred meter north, another can be seen
to the south of us. Our car is shaking apart and we are forced to return. We have to head north to the Caspian sea and Herat.

Afghanistan is high and light - bright sunshine over snow and distant mountains. It is 1967 - we dance in the Spinzar Hotel while offering flower to all the Afghan
guests - love and peace - Then I see a big black spider moving across the walls, it is Sigmund, he is all dark, I float in the air down the front staircase.

  Next day we are not welcome in - we are hippies, but they smile. Our car is sold for 300 dollars.

Xmas in Kabul 1967:

Do not think - you are doing it already.

Lee have just arrived from California as Santa Claus - talking of karma in a way the simplest boy can understand. A bowl of LSD turns into heaven - but 
heaven is too easy enjoyed. So I am let out by two angles standing at both sides of a round door leading out into the empty void. I fall and fall down from
the bed in the Noor Hotel. Someone tries to feed my a chicken leg when I wake up, and I am hallucinating again dancing. In the doorway John Holmevig
stands, bathed in light, a pusher from Århus, he smiles at me. Once when visiting me in Viby back in Denmark, he told me of an experiment some scientist
had made with worms, sending them out on an race. Half of them was vegetarians the other half was fed on other worms and inscets. The vegetarians reach
the goal long before the others.

Do not think of others' problems - you will think wrongly and problems only exist when you think wrongly. 

Enlightenment - point zero - no thinking.   Then - I am out of controle, I pass through time where thoughts are equal to history, more and more thoughts
are taking over, destroying as well as creating - seeing time - living time - thinking time.   Then blackness - and I walk into the night.  Finding myself at a
crossroad, I try to stop a taxi, but the cab driver freak out seeing my eyes and speeds away leaving me alone with eight crossroads of thoughts above me,
sixteen contradicting thought pattens and eight explotions. Then time stops. Kabul is caught, frozen in the moment, no one seems to see me passing through
the town back to the Arian Hotel. They sense my passing and spit in my direction - everyone seems caught moving one step forward then one back. 
Sigmund had "Its All Over Now Baby Blue" playing on the tape. I had to switch it off before the universe imploded.

Walking backward - out of the painting for the first time - away from the wall in a Kabul hotel, colours all around. 

They climb down the wall washing themself and their clothes in the river. It have snowed and there is a smell of orange, dates and high air.

I end all use of dope and hallucinogenic substances - and meat eating - or I shall die.

  Arriving in India 1968            

       Portrait painted by an Indian artist in Bombay

    First bath in the Ganga

 Poul Erik and myself in Katmandu 1968

In the Golden garden

Warmth like a precious snake moves around me - draws me into an amazing world. Fragile I am without knowledge of life - full of sunlight in happiness.

From the hospital:
So little is needed - a window and the grass outside - just a little patch - this is a manifolded fairy tale filling every pore of my body almost exploding.
Do not talk of hell when heaven is here. The nurse is outside and I am flying over the forest of spring - no one can stop me from laughing and crying of love.   

Donovan: 1968

Seen in a vision in Kabul on my way back from India.

Giving the painting to Donovan 1969 during his concert in Copenhagen

The frog: 

Mystery inside and all around.

'The magician he sparkles in satin and velvet, you gaze at his splendour with eyes you've not used yet, I tell you his name is love - love - love'    Donovan

The murmuring sound of the mountain stream: 

Individual ethic - Sitting in the bus on a mountain road seeing a light across the valley,
hovering over the road where the bus will be in half an hour.
As the bus reaches the point I become one with a new body - my new morality.

Zazen - moment of truth:  

Two Suns - one rising one setting over time and faith.

Sun chariot:  

Early sunrise - floating

The deer

The Djinn