They're still stains, these stains are just better organized, but still interested in rustic materiality, marks on fabrics, deployed with a domestic interest in the vintage, a "warm material" that - as Sanchez is right in pointing out - online spread like a meme of display screen relief, recalibrating our color rods where, in a white world of plastic, it feels good to see wood; which seeing Jensen's painting in person the fetishistic attachment to raw material unpainted was hard not to see in purview of that time's cultural trend leading to that explosion of bars with reclaimed wood everything and newfound reinterest in brass and stone and a sort wish for a return to materiality and sensitivity so prevalent that we should have taken the opportunity to introduce the public to arte povera, and reviewers describing Jensen's paintings like their high-thread-count bed-sheets, this wish for "the natural" that Jensen acquired through accumulating accidents (nature), and so the "painter without paint"(!) couldn't use paint because that would make a new image - which we were all so tired of - whereas stains and bleach and dust were patinas that only referenced age, but now using paint since 2013, but they're still stains in that they are ghostings of history's painting and still totally vintage.