Every picture has a story, and every story has a picture. Perhaps the story behind a picture matters more than the story behind the artist, especially when the artist chooses not to tell it.
Every picture has a story, and every story has a picture.
Stories behind photographs
Ballancing act: fuck off
Ballancing act: fuck off was created while I was cat-sitting for a friend. She lives in an incredible old flat where everything is still original, something almost impossible to find these days. I had photographed the flat before, but the staircase had somehow escaped my attention. This piece was a long time in the making, mostly in my head. I tested the stairs a year earlier, but the images I took back then weren’t what I was looking for. This time, I got lucky: despite the cold days, the sun showed up in full force. That light made it possible for both the coloured series (When the Heart Pauses, Where Silence Settles, A Place to Disappear, Luminous Interval) and Fuck You to exist. People often ask why the middle finger. I don’t have a sophisticated answer. When you’re fed up, you’re fed up.
Almost reached
This image was created in Sweden, in the absolutely beautiful place known as Bjarkagård. As usual, I brought my camera with no clear plan whatsoever, just optimism. I wandered around, finding various spots to photograph, with the ambitious goal of making every image different from the last. It was November. 5°C. And I was dressed impressively wrong for walking between locations. The final image is actually a composite of three separate photos. The bending tree was right outside the hut I was renting. The mushroom, photographed separately, was the largest I could find, which says more about the season than my standards. The branch I appear to be standing on was also shot separately, since in reality I was standing on grass and leaves, not striking a heroic pose over thin air.
I wanted the image to feel whimsical, a reminder of Bjarkagård, a place I fully intend to return to, preferably with better clothing choices next time.
Ballancing act: fuck off
Lifeless Stars
Ballancing act: fuck off was created while I was cat-sitting for a friend. She lives in an incredible old flat where everything is still original, something almost impossible to find these days. I had photographed the flat before, but the staircase had somehow escaped my attention. This piece was a long time in the making, mostly in my head. I tested the stairs a year earlier, but the images I took back then weren’t what I was looking for. This time, I got lucky: despite the cold days, the sun showed up in full force. That light made it possible for both the coloured series (When the Heart Pauses, Where Silence Settles, A Place to Disappear, Luminous Interval) and Ballancing act: fuck off to exist. People often ask why the middle finger. I don’t have a sophisticated answer. When you’re fed up, you’re fed up.
Almost reached
This image was created in Sweden, in the absolutely beautiful place known as Bjarkagård. As usual, I brought my camera with no clear plan whatsoever, just optimism. I wandered around, finding various spots to photograph, with the ambitious goal of making every image different from the last. It was November. 5°C. And I was dressed impressively wrong for walking between locations. The final image is actually a composite of three separate photos. The bending tree was right outside the hut I was renting. The mushroom, photographed separately, was the largest I could find, which says more about the season than my standards. The branch I appear to be standing on was also shot separately, since in reality I was standing on grass and leaves, not striking a heroic pose over thin air. I wanted the image to feel whimsical, a reminder of Bjarkagård, a place I fully intend to return to, preferably with better clothing choices next time.
This photograph, Lifeless Stars, is a crimson elegy for a girl I had known since she was four years old, who left this world at sixteen. Her gentle soul grew too fragile for the weight it was asked to carry.
Woven from red tulle and marked by 400 beads, each one hand-glued, every bead stands for a child who has known hardship. Red becomes love, memory, and quiet strength. This image honors her memory, reminding us that even when they are gone, their light continues to shine.
Bye bye birdy
Lifeless Stars
This photograph, Lifeless Stars, is a crimson elegy for a girl I had known since she was four years old, who left this world at sixteen. Her gentle soul grew too fragile for the weight it was asked to carry.
Woven from red tulle and marked by 400 beads, each one hand-glued, every bead stands for a child who has known hardship. Red becomes love, memory, and quiet strength. This image honors her memory, reminding us that even when they are gone, their light continues to shine.
Even though the days in Aabenraa during one of the Easter holidays were far from perfect, the cold (yes, cold and I was spectacularly underdressed) and wet weather somehow felt perfect. The green seaweed coating the stones on the beach was almost aggressively vibrant. The smell at low tide, however, was… less inspiring.
I was oddly fascinated by a freshly dead bird (which I examined with great care), but I photographed it separately — some boundaries still exist. I later placed the little bird into the image in Photoshop. RIP, my tiny friend. You did not survive Easter, but you did make it into the final edit.
Rooted in silence
Lommestenen is my absolute favourite camping place. The beauty of the nature there is breathtaking. That particular year, however, the trip was less than ideal. My team and I had to reschedule twice due to heavy rain, and I owe them everything for still coming along with me.
I took numerous photos during that trip. It was drizzling constantly, the ground was soaked, everything felt damp, and there were slugs, spiders, and even foxes at night. At some point, I wasn’t even sure what sticky substance had ended up on my clothes anymore. But every single shot was worth taking, and I regret nothing. Not even the unexpected nighttime downpour.
Bye bye birdy
Even though the days in Aabenraa during one of the Easter holidays were far from perfect, the cold (yes, cold and I was spectacularly underdressed) and wet weather somehow felt perfect. The green seaweed coating the stones on the beach was almost aggressively vibrant. The smell at low tide, however, was… less inspiring.
I was oddly fascinated by a freshly dead bird (which I examined with great care), but I photographed it separately — some boundaries still exist. I later placed the little bird into the image in Photoshop. RIP, my tiny friend. You did not survive Easter, but you did make it into the final edit.
Rooted in silence
Lommestenen is my absolute favourite camping place. The beauty of the nature there is breathtaking. That particular year, however, the trip was less than ideal. My team and I had to reschedule twice due to heavy rain, and I owe them everything for still coming along with me.
I took numerous photos during that trip. It was drizzling constantly, the ground was soaked, everything felt damp, and there were slugs, spiders, and even foxes at night. At some point, I wasn’t even sure what sticky substance had ended up on my clothes anymore. But every single shot was worth taking, and I regret nothing. Not even the unexpected nighttime downpour.