On the slowness of catching time with the fingertips…


The naked moments of fullness between past and future, - which suddenly and unexpectedly become more real, more important, more precious because of their present intensity.
Moments with no memories, no expectations, - but with the sense of an unknown dimension, separated from the chronological order of time. Some seconds, or a couple of hours, - it varies. My steps become more gentle, I am sensitive to the content of this moment, trying to catch its energy. Store it in my body as sensuous experiences, - drawing, - making notes. Letting it mature.

Later on, when drawing and painting the design for the tapestry in full scale, I add other aspects to the process; -ponderings, - astonishments; - faith, hope and charity take part in giving life to the yet unborn tapestry. At first I work quite naturalisticly, then gradually searching for the lines and colours representing the essence of what I want to tell.

To get the particular shades of colour, I spin the wool myself. That the surface of the tapestry becomes more alive through the handspunn yarn is an extra bonus. My palette contains wool of bright primary- and secondary-colours; there is almost no limitation of what shades I am able to mix. I make areas of colours in motion, transitions as imperceptible as the movement of time; - one can’t tell the change from minute to minute, can’t define when the light changes. This is my way of working with colours, - I try to create imperceptible transitions of one shade to another.
This is the most exhausting part of the process. It takes all my concentration to keep the dialogue between the motive and myself alive, so that lines and colours appear as they are meant to be.

Later on all the hours with the spinning wheel and loom. I am a passionated weaver. Repeating the same movements hour after hour, day after day, year after year. Feeling the threads of the warp and the weft against my fingertips, watching the image grow. I feel close to my inner self when weaving.
I am taken by the slowness of the technique. I like things to take time.
Slowness and the fullness of the idea-trigging moments are in some way related. As if the innate power of moments can be measured inch by inch by the woollen yarn. I pull the thread through a momentary hole in time, and weave the looking-glass image of what is at the other side of time.
In to the warp I also put invisible threads of smaller and bigger everyday events, the books I read, the stories and music I listen to. All my thoughts. Everything is there.

With large works it is unbearably exiting to unroll the finished tapestry from the loom. Months might have passed since I started weaving, mostly sideways in the loom, as compared to how it is meant to hang on the wall. Has it turned out shapely and without blemishes…is it vigorous enough for a life on its own....
My hope is that it holds the feeling of space beyond time, which in its simplicity embodies a whole world…