In 2019 I started to work with my archive, determined to find out what I keep in all the drawers and cupboards. There was a sense of curiosity as to what I was hoarding, if all these notes, scribbles, articles and folders held information that made sense to me now. I was rather surprised as I systematically went through this collection of abundant threads of thought. In a way I was facing my impossible attempt to comprehend the complexity of the world, or even making sense of where I am and what I choose to do.
I decided to read and investigate each piece of information, thus trying to remember what it was that made me hold on to it and what it means to me today. I persued this process as a means of getting to the essence of what actually drives me and gives me direction: looking into the past to inform the present and navigate the future.
In 2020 this work suddenly was the only practice I could continue for some time. It transformed and started to become a presence of knowledge that weighs me down. It further became a dialogue between the different processes of making – the paper as the container for information and words asking me to interact performative. Words are such a big part of making sense of the world these days, for me though, writing often dissolves the meaning that I created through action. Text is simply not my material of expression, nevertheless, I am an eager reader.
In any case, this work in progress unfolds in 2020 it has become a comment on the inner space we are suddenly forced to occupy. For me, it is also an expression of my unsettled feelings as an artist, a moment of hiding from the world?
Or is it an image of the enormous rise in administrative tasks and I feel I am drowning in paperwork?