I have been off the radar for quite a while, and I apologize for the silence. Truth is, I needed to be silent. The past year brought new perspectives and priorities to my life, that made me put all projects on pause.
This is what happened:
Last autumn I moved out of the city and into an old country cottage in Sweden; a long lived dream that finally came true. This event would not only change my lifestyle dramatically, but also my perception of almost everything.
From having led a busy life in the city, chasing some level of professional recognition, suddenly I found myself spending the days stacking firewood, building a chicken coop, growing vegetables, listening to the wind in the tree tops and watching the rain. I found myself in the middle of building the lifestyle that for so long had been a deep longing in my body. It was like an existential hammer in the head, that I wasn't fully prepared for:
It demanded my undivided presence and made me question what the different aspects of my life was motivated by. What was most important?
This reflection included Mothlands as well. A project, which timing collided head-on with this new change. Mothlands took off with a burst of energy, but stranded prematurely. During winter and early spring, I went through a confusing process of trying to figure out why Mothlands seemingly had lost it's meaning for me. I had never deserted a project before, what was wrong with me?
Now I see, that Mothlands most of all was a reaction against stagnation. But as I moved away from stagnation, by moving myself physically away from the threadmill, I didn't realise that the project would loose it's necessity for me on a personal level. Although I still find an interesting ressonance in my original intensions, I simply didn't have the artistic motivation, that was needed to fullfill those intentions. The powerful slogan of "Go, liberate!" had alrady happened on a different level.
So this is where I am now: Autumn is coming with it's cool magical scents and all it's vibrant colours. Our homestead is establishing steadily, the rhytms of the seasons starts to integrate with my being. My first child is growing and kicking in my belly, and I am completely in awe, that something so miraculous happens all the time on an ordinary basis.
My artistic practice is gradually awakening again, but this time, I am not rushing into any specific projects or aiming for a certain output. Instead, I am softly approaching art from a freer perspective, much less burdened by the idea of having to live up to an artistic identity.
What this last year has given me, and the realisation that Mothlands has brought on as well, is that I need art to be a curious and humble companion to the life I lead. Art is an outlook that makes our world richer, more nuanced, more profound. But it needs to be an earnest projection of life experience. And therefore, sometimes, life needs to come first.