I've been making art as far back as I remember, from my childhood drawings of cuckoo clocks and dinosaurs to the imaginary creatures and landscapes of my high school years. I started taking my work more seriously between 1987-1991 when I studied painting and drawing at The American University in Washington D.C.. Although the university had a small art program, the teachers were excellent. I learned how to utilize planes of light and color and I also gained a grasp of composition by working strictly from life. I'd been painting and drawing from my imagination up to that point, so working from the figure or a still life was a new and challenging experience. Although I found myself at odds with the rigidness and close-mindedness of the academic world after graduating, I eventually gained a profound respect and appreciation for what I had been taught. My imagination now had the backbone and foundation it needed to run free.

I usually start a painting from some event in nature. Once a basic surface is established, my creative instincts kick in and my imagination, memory and intuition takes over. None of the imagery is planned in advance, or if it is, things always change once the paint hits the canvas. Figures and landscapes are gradually pulled out of the crude mess until there is finally a sense of resolution.

I view each of my paintings as part of an unfolding story, although the story often takes unexpected twists and turns. I find it difficult describing my work, since I dislike intellectualizing or dissecting the meaning of my art. It's much more interesting to me when the viewer comes up with their own meanings and interpretations.

I've exhibited my paintings at various galleries between 1992-2005. Although my gallery experiences were fruitful, they were sometimes upsetting and stressful. Lately, however, I'm thinking about showing my work again. In the meantime, it's been fulfilling selling my work privately and directly.

My paintings have naturally evolved, although the atmosphere and themes remain relatively constant. Regardless of what I'm painting, my imagery, as personal as it is, remains secondary to the larger issues of light, color and composition. The figures are merely passing through the mystery and silence of the landscape.

Tor Lundvall, November 2007 (amended February 2022)