Forests and fields have become collaborators by providing a scenery for a creative process. There has been no time and no reason to question the functionality of the uneven, frozen and wet ground as a substitute for a silky, smooth, wooden floor. In fact, the ground has become a more intimate friend than any studio floor before. When working outside I need to generate movement continuously in order to stay warm. Unprecedented inner landscapes take form.
I go for long walks during the moment in the evening when it is going from light to dark. Patience to participate attentively in the slow, inevitable change generates a reassuring reminder of continuity. I just carry on. Images and visions arrive somehow out of the blue, unavoidably and tenderly.
In darkness the forest becomes more vocal. Birds sing louder and they fly closer so that you can often even feel them.