I am not it. It's me.

I am not it. It's me.
2015, glass in an enamel bowl, 34 x 34 x 11 cm

snövit drömmar
2004, sculpture and performance in ice from the River Torne in the ice-warehouse of ICEHOTEL at Jukkasjärvi, Sweden

Lying close together, the ice blocks form high piles in the ice-warehouse. Depending on the lighting conditions, they shine from lightly transparent to deep turquoise. They are giant blocks, about 2.2 by 0.8 by 0.9 meters, and they are crystal-clear. Sometimes frozen algae are found in the ice, and even frozen-again holes made by ice fishermen ... preserved traces and stories, stopped time. The ice lives, waiting until a year later, again to ow in the River Torne; sleeps, dreams, and is so beautiful, so pure. At the same time it is only water, only water. It is unbelievable, this place, this giant sleeping station, and I am fascinated again and again. I wish I could climb up into the empty spaces to see more of the play of lights. Who knows, which stories lay hidden here? I want to feel the ice with all my pores, to be part of it for a moment.
I dig into a at lying ice block; make an opening the size of my body. Then I undress, get inside, lay down on the ice, remaining quiet, dreaming ... a moment of downtime, timeless. But I am alive; wake up again, step out, and get dressed again. The ice melted under the warming pressure of my body; my hair stuck together with ice water. A tender print remains behind, to remind of the happening.
Later we brought this container out to the river. It will be filled again by the falling snow or maybe someone will do that soon.
I dig into a at lying ice block; make an opening the size of my body. Then I undress, get inside, lay down on the ice, remaining quiet, dreaming ... a moment of downtime, timeless. But I am alive; wake up again, step out, and get dressed again. The ice melted under the warming pressure of my body; my hair stuck together with ice water. A tender print remains behind, to remind of the happening.
Later we brought this container out to the river. It will be filled again by the falling snow or maybe someone will do that soon.

if I dig just long and deep enough …
2016, paper and wire, two objects each 180 x 140 x 25 cm

My hands are indispensable tools for me. However, to achieve my goal and work more efficiently, I have put on body extensions. My huge shovel arms are like two opposites to me. Guiding them is unusually strange and difficult. The fragile, delicate materiality does not allow digging in anything hard and leads to the absurd.

My own time
2014, enamel, Cu, Ag, 80 cm long

Through the movements of the wearer of the necklace, the various clock faces take on different movements and arrangements. Thus they offer information about the wearer concerning his subjective feelings about time.

for a Sleeping Beauty
2008, Spektrale 3, Correctional facility in Luckau, three dresses, braided blackberry tendrils

Showing my thorns,
for protection and yet, in my own pain,
so that I can turn inward in calm concentration.




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