“Reality has revealed itself to us as a
continuous becoming. It develops or disintegrates,
but it is never an accomplished fact.”
Henri Bergson

While drawing, memories and thoughts condense into concrete images. At times, in not more than a few sharp pencil lines; but then again in heavy black pastel-crayon or dark inkblots. They appear on paper in isolation and evoke associations with all kinds of narratives, from old myths and dark fairy tales to recent stories.

I fix the images in paper templates. Experiments with the material and the resulting unexpected possibilities further propel the work. I print the templates with strongly diluted ink, immerge the sheets of paper completely in dark ink and experiment with imprints of vegetation. While working, the carefully captured images become more and more affected. They disappear, dissolve in ink which flows in all directions and dries in patterns which are not predictable.

But as soon as the ink has dried, the silhouettes of the templates glimmer as shadows through the surface and traces of earlier pencil drawings become visible again. They evoke new associations. I draw them on blank sheets, or in white lines across the old images, like a graphic version of the codex rescriptus – a recycled piece of parchment, on which old handwriting often shines through underneath the new text.

This - almost ritual – process is essential to my work. It is a cadence of capture, disarray, disappear, appear and capture. Shapes and memories develop, change and transform. The rhythm of capturing and releasing reflects not only the elusiveness of my own, individual memory and imagination, but also of a cultural undercurrent of 'shared' stories.

Perhaps the dynamics of my work allow for comparison with the narrative 'stream of consciousness' technique in which human thought is depicted as a continuous flow of ideas, observations and memories; information is offered patchily, sometimes with interrupted phrases. The drawn images and template prints do not relate to time or space. They are fragments, parts of a larger entity. They find their coherence in wall paintings of stacked images, in rows and in blocks of densely hung drawings and vegetation-prints.