Rocks that Sing to us
I am attracted to the aesthetic of concealment. When something is hidden or covered. I love the relationship between the concealed and the concealer. I am fascinated by transparence. How something can be covered, yet remain visible. I see this concept in the ancient cave paintings in the mountains of my home village. Paintings on rocks and on walls of caves, paintings that are thousands of years old. We have that here in Sweden too – as with most parts of the world; here, voices from the past are etched in stone. ‘Runor’, I think you call them, here. There exists a great chasm of time between us and those ancestors, and their ancestors before them. Their voices reach out to us through layers of blankets of ancient time. My work at Wik is an attempt to pull back this curtain of time and to celebrate these ancient voices. These rocks that sing to us today, reflect lives lived. Rocks that Sing to us, ask us to pause and to consider what has gone before us. They confront us with mortality, our mortality.