Memories of my grandmother: day 1


Walking alone the river

I remember a picture I saw of my grandmother from when she was young. She had wide linnen trousers, a brick-coloured shirt and was sitting on the back of a big brown horse. Her hair looked wild in a stylish way and her face was a big smile. I remember thinking that this was who she was before I knew her, before she moved to the city, before she was mortal. Safe and wild she took on the world. How could she end up with a broken mind in a lonely place so far away from us?

But in some ways she was never alone at the end. In her mind, where time and logic no longer mattered, she was visited by long dead relatives. Her uncles kept her up at night, dancing on the second floor, her mother came to stay some days and all the places and friends she loved the most was just around the corner.


Where she was born and where the picture with the horse was taken. There used to be a full ally of birch trees all the way up.


Fragment 2: birch bark from the new trees by her old house.


Fragment 3: soil from her parents grave.

Memories of my grandmother: day 0

You are the same house, the same door. You are probably the same birch trees, all grown up. But you surround a meadow now, not a neatly cut lawn. In some places you can still hear the gravel creak beneeth the grass where we used to play mini golf. But you trees, you house and door with peeling paint, you saw her here. You saw me too. Maybe I look older now and these memories will die with me, but I remember you.

During two weeks my mom and I will follow in my grandmother’s footsteps as we walk from the village where she was born, to the village where she died. Along the way, in this landscape of hers, I will collect fragments that remind me of her and document it here. This is day 0, we are now in Stugun where she was born. Time to sleep, tomorrow we start walking.


The way down to the river, overgrown by flowers.


Nobody lives here now, but someone cared enough to fix the roof.


One of these layers must have been painted by her.


Peeking through the key hole.


The first fragment collected.

Control system

Everything changed a little bit to the left.

I wake up at the subway with no idea of where I’m going. Who was I when getting on this train? I look out the window. We create this hard world. Then we create shoes to walk on it without damaging out feet. Lights passing outside in the dark while I’m trying my shoes against the floor.

Everything will move back again to the way it was and they will tell me what station to get off at.


Silicone cubes


Shellac and fabric box


Collapsing cube of bandage and shellac


Bloated cube of raw hide and concrete