Jonas Törnkvist art work showed me that life was a mockery. In his paintings, there’s an uncertain truth that uses sarcasm as a punch in the face.
I can’t help imagine the artist as victim of his own pale characters. Like if Origo and his circumstance, were laughing of him and all of us. Am I the only who sees death in Törnkvist’s visual paradoxes?
Jonas Törnkvist (1987) is a painter living in Sweden.
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