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Jörgen Thornberg
Infinity - Summer 2025, 2025
Digital
70 x 50 cm
3 500 kr
Infinity - Summer 2025
Beneath a rainbow that stretched over Malmö from east to west, on one of those July days when the light breaks through the clouds as if to show that everything is connected to eternity. The weather, like the human mind, was typical of Swedish summers – more on than off, shifting and changing. Lisa stood there at the water’s edge, just as she used to, not as a memory but as herself. She used to say that some visits are meant not to remember what was, but to remind us of what still lives.
The moment, as fleeting as it was, served as a poignant reminder of the urgency of living in the present. It became a picture and a story about infinity, a narrative of the fleeting beauty of life.
“Lisa’s Canvas
She dipped her brush in a sigh of stars,
and traced the arc where silence starts.
No edges, no corners, no frame to obey –
just the long unfolding of light on its way.
The canvas? No cloth, no flaxen weave,
but the space between the thoughts we leave.
She painted not what eyes could see,
but what the soul recalls wordlessly.
A spiral, a shimmer, a whispering hue,
that stretched beyond red, beyond even blue.
Where the brushstroke bent, the colours flew –
and time dissolved into something new.
She said, “No surface holds this flight,
not walls, not ceilings, not trimmed white.
So I borrow the edge of someone’s dream,
and stitch it into an endless seam.”
The painting grew with each heartbeat,
and wandered off on phantom feet.
It vanished where the starlight played,
unfinished still, but never frayed.”
Malmö July 2025
Infinity – Summer 2025
Lisa’s gaze drifted far beyond Turning Torso, towards the distant northern horizon, as far into infinity as her thoughts could reach. She was back for one of her brief visits from her star, a place where time and space are not as we know them, and the summer weather was just as it was in her time – quite changeable. The afternoon sun broke through the rain clouds and formed a double rainbow, with arches that embraced Malmö from east to west.
She was alone on the beach, apart from me taking the photograph and some seagulls, which seemed to appreciate that the rain had passed. Seagulls aren’t exactly afraid of getting wet, but they are pragmatic. Rain hampers both visibility and access to food. They prefer to wait. But after the rain? Then they gather where the water has pooled and the earth has been stirred up, where worms have surfaced, and small fish rise, creating a natural buffet. So they feasted now at the water’s edge.
Lisa said it felt good to return now and then, not to remember, but to remind. Not just me – the place itself. The sea. The beach. The city. The rainbow, a symbol of continuity and change, already knows. It is, in fact, infinite – a circle, though the earth hides one half. Surely Turning Torso knows too, even though it didn’t exist when I lived here.
Since leaving Earth, Lisa had grown accustomed to infinite perspectives, views that stretch beyond the limits of human comprehension. There’s a charm in it, she said. But from her old life, what she missed most were the children and grandchildren. Not much else remained worth recalling from those final years.
She often spoke to me about infinity – both the one that governs the cosmos and the one found here on Earth. She could discuss it with words, but also through her paintings, for she continued to create. Her paintings, a testament to the eternal nature of colours, are not just a source of inspiration and admiration but a breathtaking display of beauty that transcends time. These personal reflections on infinity invite the audience to connect and introspect.
“But it’s difficult,” Lisa said. “My thoughts don’t fit on a limited piece of canvas.”
She offered a crooked smile as she explained how people’s lives always seem to be confined by limitations and boundaries, much like the walls of a room that always end in ceilings, floors, and sharp corners. How they hang a painting as if the world inside it were finished, enclosed, and framed. But Lisa doesn’t paint that way. Her art is a testament to freedom, a liberation from the constraints of the canvas and the boundaries of the real world.
“When the canvas ends, the image continues. Sometimes upward, sometimes outward. I give it a push.” Her art is not just a painting, but a continuation of a narrative that extends beyond the canvas, inviting the audience to be part of this larger story.
Those who view her paintings must follow. Into what can’t be seen – but can be felt. Look closely, and the imagination fills in the rest. The journey continues until you run out of energy. Or until you have to get up and make dinner. You can easily return later.
“The best part,” she said, “is that you can take the infinite journey as many times as you like. On Earth, I painted moments. Up here, I paint movements that never end. Time lays itself over the colour like a thin glaze – a transparent varnish of motion.”
Infinity refers to something without limits – in time, space, or quantity. In mathematics, it’s symbolised by ∞a horizontal figure-eight that never closes. Infinity is not a number, but a concept that describes quantities that never cease to exist. It is used in physics, in theories about the universe’s expansion, and also where Lisa now resides – in the depths of the stars, where neither beginning nor end holds any meaning.
Philosophically, infinity remains one of the most debated ideas. Is it eternity? A force? A possibility? Or simply our inability to fathom the limits? Religions have adopted the concept – to promote their heavens and hells – but Lisa smiled when she said that in eternity, no god is required, since neither sin nor salvation holds importance anymore. Up there, no courts exist.
“That stuff was invented by humans on Earth,” she said. “Here we just drift.”
The infinity symbol is often used to represent eternal love or friendship. And it fits, Lisa said. All ailments are left behind on Earth. However, the loved one who once experienced this follows along. It is as boundless as the universe itself, a comforting thought in the vastness of infinity. The enduring nature of art and love, like the infinity symbol, provides a sense of reassurance in the face of the unknown.
In your modern world, people have begun using “infinity” to describe various things, including cloud services, tech companies, and fitness programmes. Technology seems eager to borrow the aura of eternity, as if a server room were a galaxy. “Nonsense,” said Lisa. “There aren’t enough zeroes and ones in the world to express infinity. And besides, code is always finite. Unlike light.” This contrast between technology’s finite nature and the universe’s infinite nature offers a thought-provoking insight, sparking intrigue and contemplation in the audience.
In everyday speech, we often say something is “infinitely much” when we mean it’s a lot – whether it’s candy, fatigue, or a trip that seems never to end. Lisa laughed at that. “Though some journeys,” she said, “should never have ended.”
She told me that where she lives now, there are places that resemble infinity pools, where the sea of stars melts into the sky. Golden shimmering expanses that seem to spill into the darkness – not to be swallowed, but always embraced.
In one of the universe’s most-watched dramas, the Marvel series, there are the Infinity Stones – fictional artefacts with power over time, space, and the soul. “Pure invention,” Lisa said, “but there are phenomena near black holes that almost make it plausible.”
At last, she sighed:
“I am infinitely hungry. And I want to go to an excellent Italian restaurant.”
There is, in fact, no shortage of Italian food in eternity, since nearly every Italian restaurateur eventually joins the starfolk. But Lisa said there’s something special about eating at an earthly trattoria. One where the chef can’t hide a lousy kitchen behind the mists of infinity. Because on Earth, there’s still such a thing as bankruptcy. And on certain days – rainbow days – that’s a kind of comfort. These rainbow days, when the sky is painted with vibrant colours, bring a sense of hope and comfort, a reminder that even in the vastness of eternity, there are moments of joy and beauty.
I’ll meet you at the restaurant since I plan to take a little detour around Lake Bolmen. You know the place.
The very moment she vanished from sight, behind the dunes and the rainbow, I thought of ‘Ouroboros’ – the serpent that devours its tail. It appears in myths from Egypt to the North, from Mayan cosmology to alchemy and modern physics. A symbol of eternity, of the cycle, of that which never ends but only begins again. Lisa used to say that infinity isn’t a straight line vanishing into the distance – it’s a circle like the rainbow. Like the paintings she creates without frames. Like life, when left to itself. And perhaps that is how we best understand those who have left us: as an eternal movement that both returns and carries us forward – until we, too, have the strength to see beyond the horizon. This concept of infinity as a cycle, a continuous loop, brings a sense of comfort and interconnectedness, reminding us that nothing truly ends; it just transforms.
Jörgen Thornberg
Infinity - Summer 2025, 2025
Digital
70 x 50 cm
3 500 kr
Infinity - Summer 2025
Beneath a rainbow that stretched over Malmö from east to west, on one of those July days when the light breaks through the clouds as if to show that everything is connected to eternity. The weather, like the human mind, was typical of Swedish summers – more on than off, shifting and changing. Lisa stood there at the water’s edge, just as she used to, not as a memory but as herself. She used to say that some visits are meant not to remember what was, but to remind us of what still lives.
The moment, as fleeting as it was, served as a poignant reminder of the urgency of living in the present. It became a picture and a story about infinity, a narrative of the fleeting beauty of life.
“Lisa’s Canvas
She dipped her brush in a sigh of stars,
and traced the arc where silence starts.
No edges, no corners, no frame to obey –
just the long unfolding of light on its way.
The canvas? No cloth, no flaxen weave,
but the space between the thoughts we leave.
She painted not what eyes could see,
but what the soul recalls wordlessly.
A spiral, a shimmer, a whispering hue,
that stretched beyond red, beyond even blue.
Where the brushstroke bent, the colours flew –
and time dissolved into something new.
She said, “No surface holds this flight,
not walls, not ceilings, not trimmed white.
So I borrow the edge of someone’s dream,
and stitch it into an endless seam.”
The painting grew with each heartbeat,
and wandered off on phantom feet.
It vanished where the starlight played,
unfinished still, but never frayed.”
Malmö July 2025
Infinity – Summer 2025
Lisa’s gaze drifted far beyond Turning Torso, towards the distant northern horizon, as far into infinity as her thoughts could reach. She was back for one of her brief visits from her star, a place where time and space are not as we know them, and the summer weather was just as it was in her time – quite changeable. The afternoon sun broke through the rain clouds and formed a double rainbow, with arches that embraced Malmö from east to west.
She was alone on the beach, apart from me taking the photograph and some seagulls, which seemed to appreciate that the rain had passed. Seagulls aren’t exactly afraid of getting wet, but they are pragmatic. Rain hampers both visibility and access to food. They prefer to wait. But after the rain? Then they gather where the water has pooled and the earth has been stirred up, where worms have surfaced, and small fish rise, creating a natural buffet. So they feasted now at the water’s edge.
Lisa said it felt good to return now and then, not to remember, but to remind. Not just me – the place itself. The sea. The beach. The city. The rainbow, a symbol of continuity and change, already knows. It is, in fact, infinite – a circle, though the earth hides one half. Surely Turning Torso knows too, even though it didn’t exist when I lived here.
Since leaving Earth, Lisa had grown accustomed to infinite perspectives, views that stretch beyond the limits of human comprehension. There’s a charm in it, she said. But from her old life, what she missed most were the children and grandchildren. Not much else remained worth recalling from those final years.
She often spoke to me about infinity – both the one that governs the cosmos and the one found here on Earth. She could discuss it with words, but also through her paintings, for she continued to create. Her paintings, a testament to the eternal nature of colours, are not just a source of inspiration and admiration but a breathtaking display of beauty that transcends time. These personal reflections on infinity invite the audience to connect and introspect.
“But it’s difficult,” Lisa said. “My thoughts don’t fit on a limited piece of canvas.”
She offered a crooked smile as she explained how people’s lives always seem to be confined by limitations and boundaries, much like the walls of a room that always end in ceilings, floors, and sharp corners. How they hang a painting as if the world inside it were finished, enclosed, and framed. But Lisa doesn’t paint that way. Her art is a testament to freedom, a liberation from the constraints of the canvas and the boundaries of the real world.
“When the canvas ends, the image continues. Sometimes upward, sometimes outward. I give it a push.” Her art is not just a painting, but a continuation of a narrative that extends beyond the canvas, inviting the audience to be part of this larger story.
Those who view her paintings must follow. Into what can’t be seen – but can be felt. Look closely, and the imagination fills in the rest. The journey continues until you run out of energy. Or until you have to get up and make dinner. You can easily return later.
“The best part,” she said, “is that you can take the infinite journey as many times as you like. On Earth, I painted moments. Up here, I paint movements that never end. Time lays itself over the colour like a thin glaze – a transparent varnish of motion.”
Infinity refers to something without limits – in time, space, or quantity. In mathematics, it’s symbolised by ∞a horizontal figure-eight that never closes. Infinity is not a number, but a concept that describes quantities that never cease to exist. It is used in physics, in theories about the universe’s expansion, and also where Lisa now resides – in the depths of the stars, where neither beginning nor end holds any meaning.
Philosophically, infinity remains one of the most debated ideas. Is it eternity? A force? A possibility? Or simply our inability to fathom the limits? Religions have adopted the concept – to promote their heavens and hells – but Lisa smiled when she said that in eternity, no god is required, since neither sin nor salvation holds importance anymore. Up there, no courts exist.
“That stuff was invented by humans on Earth,” she said. “Here we just drift.”
The infinity symbol is often used to represent eternal love or friendship. And it fits, Lisa said. All ailments are left behind on Earth. However, the loved one who once experienced this follows along. It is as boundless as the universe itself, a comforting thought in the vastness of infinity. The enduring nature of art and love, like the infinity symbol, provides a sense of reassurance in the face of the unknown.
In your modern world, people have begun using “infinity” to describe various things, including cloud services, tech companies, and fitness programmes. Technology seems eager to borrow the aura of eternity, as if a server room were a galaxy. “Nonsense,” said Lisa. “There aren’t enough zeroes and ones in the world to express infinity. And besides, code is always finite. Unlike light.” This contrast between technology’s finite nature and the universe’s infinite nature offers a thought-provoking insight, sparking intrigue and contemplation in the audience.
In everyday speech, we often say something is “infinitely much” when we mean it’s a lot – whether it’s candy, fatigue, or a trip that seems never to end. Lisa laughed at that. “Though some journeys,” she said, “should never have ended.”
She told me that where she lives now, there are places that resemble infinity pools, where the sea of stars melts into the sky. Golden shimmering expanses that seem to spill into the darkness – not to be swallowed, but always embraced.
In one of the universe’s most-watched dramas, the Marvel series, there are the Infinity Stones – fictional artefacts with power over time, space, and the soul. “Pure invention,” Lisa said, “but there are phenomena near black holes that almost make it plausible.”
At last, she sighed:
“I am infinitely hungry. And I want to go to an excellent Italian restaurant.”
There is, in fact, no shortage of Italian food in eternity, since nearly every Italian restaurateur eventually joins the starfolk. But Lisa said there’s something special about eating at an earthly trattoria. One where the chef can’t hide a lousy kitchen behind the mists of infinity. Because on Earth, there’s still such a thing as bankruptcy. And on certain days – rainbow days – that’s a kind of comfort. These rainbow days, when the sky is painted with vibrant colours, bring a sense of hope and comfort, a reminder that even in the vastness of eternity, there are moments of joy and beauty.
I’ll meet you at the restaurant since I plan to take a little detour around Lake Bolmen. You know the place.
The very moment she vanished from sight, behind the dunes and the rainbow, I thought of ‘Ouroboros’ – the serpent that devours its tail. It appears in myths from Egypt to the North, from Mayan cosmology to alchemy and modern physics. A symbol of eternity, of the cycle, of that which never ends but only begins again. Lisa used to say that infinity isn’t a straight line vanishing into the distance – it’s a circle like the rainbow. Like the paintings she creates without frames. Like life, when left to itself. And perhaps that is how we best understand those who have left us: as an eternal movement that both returns and carries us forward – until we, too, have the strength to see beyond the horizon. This concept of infinity as a cycle, a continuous loop, brings a sense of comfort and interconnectedness, reminding us that nothing truly ends; it just transforms.
3 500 kr
Jörgen Thornberg
Malmö
Lite om bilder och mig. Translation in English at the end.
Jag är en nyfiken person som ser allt i bilder, även det jag fäster i ord, gärna tillsammans för bakom alla mina bilder finns en berättelse. Till vissa bilder hör en kortare eller längre novell som följer med bilden.
Bilder berättar historier. Jag omges av naturlig skönhet, intressanta människor och historia var jag än går. Jag använder min kamera för att dokumentera världen och blanda det jag ser med vad jag känner för att fånga den dolda magin.
Mina bilder berättar mina historier. Genom mina bilder, tryck och berättelser. Jag bjuder in dig att ta del av dessa berättelser, in i ditt liv och hem och dela min mycket personliga syn på vår värld. Mer än vad ögat ser. Jag tänker i bilder, drömmer och skriver och pratar om dem; följaktligen måste jag också skapa bilder. De blir vad jag ser, inte nödvändigtvis begränsade till verkligheten. Det finns en bild runt varje hörn. Jag hoppas att du kommer att se vad jag såg och gilla det.
Jag är också en skrivande person och till många bilder hör en kortare eller längre essay. Den följer med tavlan, tryckt på fint papper och med en personlig hälsning från mig.
Flertalet bilder startar sin resa i min kamera. Enkelt förklarat beskriver jag bilden jag ser i mitt inre, upplevd eller fantiserad. Bilden uppstår inom mig redan innan jag fått okularet till ögat. På bråkdelen av ett ögonblick ser jag vad jag vill ha och vad som kan göras med bilden. Här skall jag stoppa in en giraff, stålmannen, Titanic eller vad det är min fantasi finner ut. Ännu märkligare är att jag kommer ihåg minnesbilden långt efteråt när det blir tid att skapa verket. Om jag lyckas eller inte, är upp till betraktaren, oftast präglat av en stråk av svart humor – meningen är att man skall bli underhållen. Mina bilder blir ofta en snackis där de hänger.
Jag föredrar bilder som förmedlar ett budskap i flera lager. Vid första anblicken fylld av feel-good, en vacker utsikt, fint väder, solen skiner, blommor på ängen eller vattnet som ligger förrädiskt spegelblankt. I en sådan bild kan jag gömma min egentliga berättelse, mitt förakt för förtryckare och våldsverkare, rasister och fördomsfulla människor - ett gärna återkommande motiv mer eller mindre dolt i det vackra motivet. Jag försöker förena dem i ett gemensamt narrativ.
Bild och formgivning har löpt som en röd tråd genom livet. Fotokonst känns som en värdig final som jag gärna delar med mig.
Min genre är vid som framgår av mina bilder, temat en blandning av pop- och gatukonst i kollage som kan bestå av hundratals lager. Vissa bilder kan ta veckor, andra någon dag innan det är dags att överlämna resultatet till printverkstaden. Fine Art Prints är digitala fotocollage. I dessa kollage sker rivandet, klippandet, pusslandet, målandet, ritandet och sprayningen digitalt. Det jag monterar in kan vara hundratals år gamla bilder som jag omsorgsfullt frilägger så att de ser ut att vara en del av tavlan men också bilder skapade av mig själv efter min egen fantasi. Därefter besöks printstudion och för vissa bilder numrera en limiterad upplaga (oftast 7 exemplar) och signera för hand. Vissa bilder kan köpas i olika format. Det är bara att fråga efter vilka. Gillar man en bild som är 70x100 men inte har plats på väggen, går den kanske att få i 50x70 cm istället. Frågan är fri.
Metoden Giclée eller Fine Art Print som det också kallas är det moderna sättet för framställning av grafisk konst. Villkoret för denna typ av utskrifter är att en högkvalitativ storformatskrivare används med åldersbeständigt färgpigment och konstnärspapper eller i förekommande fall på duk. Pappret som används möter de krav på livslängd som ställs av museer och gallerier. Normalt säljer jag mina bilder oinramade så att den nya ägaren själv kan bestämma hur de skall se ut, med eller utan passepartout färg på ram, med eller utan glas etc..
Under många år ställde jag bara ut på nätet, i valda grupper och på min egen Facebooksida - https://www.facebook.com/jorgen.thornberg.9
Jag finns också på en egen hemsida som tyvärr inte alltid är uppdaterad – https://www.jth.life/ Där kan du också läsa en del av de berättelser som följer med bilden.
UTSTÄLLNINGAR
Luftkastellet, oktober 2022
Konst i Lund, november 2022
Luftkastellet, mars 2023
Engleson Galleri Caroli, april 2023
Hydra, Greece June 2023
Engleson Galleri Caroli, oktober 2023
Toppen, Höllviken december 2023
Luftkastellet, mars 2024
Torups Galleri, mars 2024
Venice, May 2024
Luftkastellet, oktober 2024
Konst i Advent, December 2024
Galleri Engleson, Caroli December 2024
Jäger & Jansson Galleri, april 2025
A bit about pictures and me.
I'm a curious person who sees everything in pictures, even what I express in words, often combining them, for behind all my pictures lies a story. These narratives, some as short as a single image and others as long as a novel, are the heart and soul of my work.
Pictures tell stories. Wherever I go, I'm surrounded by natural beauty, exciting people, and history. I use my camera to document the world and blend what I see with what I feel to capture the hidden magic.
My images tell my stories. Through my pictures, prints, and narratives, I invite you to partake in these stories in your life and home and share my deeply personal perspective of our world. More than meets the eye. I think in pictures, dream, write, and talk about them; consequently, I must create images too. They become what I see, not necessarily confined to reality. There's a picture around every corner. I hope you'll see what I saw and enjoy it.
I'm also a writer, and many images come with a shorter or longer essay. It accompanies the painting, printed on fine paper with my personal greeting.
Many pictures start their journey on my camera. Simply put, I describe the image I see in my mind, experienced or imagined. The image arises within me even before I bring the eyepiece to my eye. In a fraction of a moment, I see what I want and what can be done with the picture. Here, I'll insert a giraffe, Superman, the Titanic, or whatever my imagination conjures up. Even stranger is that I remember the mental image long after it's time to create the work. Whether I succeed is up to the observer, often imbued with a streak of black humour – the aim is to entertain. My pictures usually become a talking point wherever they hang.
I prefer pictures that convey a message in multiple layers. At first glance, they're filled with feel-good vibes, a beautiful view, lovely weather, the sun shining, flowers in the meadow, or the water lying deceptively calm. But beneath this surface beauty, I often conceal a deeper story, a narrative that challenges societal norms or explores the human condition. I invite you to delve into these hidden narratives and discover the layers of meaning within my work.
Picture and design have been a thread running through my life. Photographic art feels like a fitting finale, and I'm happy to share it.
My genre is varied, as seen in my pictures; the theme is a blend of pop and street art in collages that can consist of hundreds of layers. Some images can take weeks, others just a day before it's time to hand over the result to the print workshop. Fine Art Prints are digital photo collages. In these collages, tearing, cutting, puzzling, painting, drawing, and spraying happen digitally. What I insert can be images hundreds of years old that I carefully extract so they appear to be part of the painting, but also images created by myself, now also generated from my imagination. Next, visit the print studio and, for certain images, number a limited edition (usually 7 copies) and sign them by hand. Some images may be available in other formats. Just ask which ones. If you like an image that's 70x100 but doesn't have space on the wall, you might be able to get it in 50x70 cm instead. The question is open.
The Giclée method, or Fine Art Print as it's also called, is the modern way of producing graphic art. This method ensures the highest quality and longevity of the artwork, using a high-quality large-format printer with archival pigment inks and artist paper or, in some cases, canvas. The paper used meets the longevity requirements set by museums and galleries. I sell my pictures unframed, allowing the new owner to personalise their artwork, confident in the lasting value and quality of the piece.
For many years, I only exhibited online, in selected groups, and on my Facebook page - https://www.facebook.com/jorgen.thornberg.9. I also have my website, which unfortunately is not constantly updated - https://www.jth.life/. You can also read some of the stories accompanying the pictures there.
EXHIBITIONS
Luftkastellet, October 2022
Art in Lund, November 2022
Luftkastellet, March 2023
Engleson Gallery Caroli, April 2023
Hydra, Greece June 2023
Engleson Gallery Caroli, October 2023
Toppen, Höllviken December 2023
Luftkastellet, March 2024
Torup Gallery, March 2024
Venice, May 2024
UTSTÄLLNINGAR
Luftkastellet, oktober 2022
Konst i Lund, november 2022
Luftkastellet, mars 2023
Engleson Galleri Caroli, april 2023
Hydra, Greece June 2023
Engleson Galleri Caroli, oktober 2023
Toppen, Höllviken december 2023
Luftkastellet, mars 2024
Torups Galleri, mars 2024
Venice, May 2024
Luftkastellet, October 2024
Konst i Advent, December 2024
Galleri Engleson, Caroli December 2024
Jäger & Jansson Galleri, April 2025
Utbildning
Autodidakt
Medlem i konstnärsförening
Öppna Sinnen
Med i konstrunda
Konstrundan i Skåne
Utställningar
Luftkastellet, October 2022
Art in Lund, November 2022
Luftkastellet, March 2023
Engleson Gallery Caroli, April 2023
Hydra, Greece June 2023
Engleson Gallery Caroli, October 2023
Toppen, Höllviken December 2023
Luftkastellet, March 2024
Torup Gallery, March 2024
Venice, May 2024