Outer landscape- Nostalgia / outdoor installation

What is important now is to recover our senses. We must learn to see more, to hear more, to feelmore. (Sontag, 2009:14)

”To live means to leave traces” walter benjamin

The stoney coastal area of the South coast of Norway, is part of the general public space, in the same way as forests and mountains. The environment is under pressure, and this area is vulnerable to pollution, ever changing, evolving through time, yet remaining as a solid structure in the present space. The drawings and installations are close, personal, intimate dialogs through years of meandering and meditation in this same area from my early childhood to the present moment. I was born and grew up n the US, but visited Norway every summer. After a near death experience, an accident as a young child, I developed a strong sense of freedom playing along the stony area for hours, and creating my own imaginary worlds. I have continued to walk , play and explore the area through the years. My playing has developed into creative explorations  into the idea of nostalgia and identity and how the area has developed as a reflective mode of beingness. My artistic process reflects on the meaningful liminal spaces that arise between the visual space, nostalgia and identity. Representing a being in the moment, creating dialogs with found stones, and driftwood, and various charcoal lines appearing as a shared experience, pulsating poetically and rhythmically as I draw the line, exists as a function into my perceptual and emotional world. Dialogs appear on the surface, emotional landscapes - of an inner / outer space. By closing my eyes for instance, and listening to the silence  I am able to capture an essence of a transforming space, the silence is filled with sounds of nature. In this kind of darkness the stones become alive, jumping out in their own colors, colors relating to one another, looking outwards at the sea or inwards towards me. I reflexively and intimately touch on the transcending nature as a creative space that opens to a dialog of senses and subliminal experience. Like being adrift at sea, I slowly let go of the structures of my language and move beyond a threshold where I am able to sense and feel the relation between the silence of a space and my inner vocabulary. Here my dialogs can develop, ideas and thoughts are visible as waves and invisible as currents through the opening and closing of the sea. Barthes argued that the reader could never know or understand the intentions of the author, and that a text therefore constitutes a multi-­‐ dimensional space-­‐ with multiple potential, subjective meanings that vary from reader to reader, from reading to reading, but that has no ultimate, singular meaning. When experiencing the liminal spaces, my mind opens to notions regarding how one can understand the space between oneself and the past, and how this space becomes a sharing of space, a universal point of contact that bounds us all together, exploring what we can understand together, a contact with essential human needs. The  journey is  dynamic and evolving , and the dialog is perpetual,  yet each artwork or dialog exists with a tension created between myself and the encounter with nature and the surrounding space with no ultimate singular meaning connecting to both past and future  The surface shows me a pathway into layers that otherwise remain concealed, showing me how language is both transparent and radiant. The silence is not empty, it resonates and echoes the past and radiates the ever evolving possibilities of the next dialog and the rendering of space.

As I communicate with nature, a language develops. What is it telling me? Each drawing or installation are fragments of a visible language of existence. An existence within a space, a space where colors and lines merge or interact with nature. A language that is in-between what I've never read or written. Like an archival of feelings and thoughts expressed through the abstract nature of a an exchange with nature.  Something beyond the definiteness of language or something beyond the visible? I find an urgency in the abstractness of the forms. They are communicating with nature. The process of building strikes me. Setting up driftwood and stone installations, painting them,  is a way of exploring the notion of home as both a place and a state of the spirit.   Philosophical investigations of the meaning of home and how this meaning lies beyond the limitations of language, and beyond our human grasp, and an opening into an inner spiritual sensing of home, or the in-between space of an inner/outer existence that lies on the edges of space. Can home exist both inside and outside? The outdoor installations and drawings are way of shaping an understanding of the environment.  We are all surrounded by the growing climate crisis. How can we identify ourselves with nature in times of growing climate crisis? Can we exist both on the inside and outside of a climate crisis? and will there still exist spaces where one can exist alone with nature? The driftwood installations show how the idea of home is also unstable and temporary and how the environment shapes our existence. The installations can fall down anytime. Global warming is continuously causing damage to our earth, and where will the idea of home evolve as we pollute our surroundings? Will we be able to still exist both inside and outside? The installations stand out as a " home" but also the colors signal how our relationship to earth is changing and how we move through space and time.  The installations are made by natural resources,  and the materials I use, I collect and gather together after the summer, and reuse them the following summer, as a way of showing my respect to nature, but also as a way of trying to preserve "home" for the future, a signal of hope. The series is a philosophical approach to how we can reconsider our place in nature, how we exist side by side with nature, and how  a"home" can exist both inside and outside in times of climate crisis?