Exhibition at Galleri Vasli, Nov 14 - Dec 03 
 

    

 

This is the time for every artist in every genre to do what he or she does loudly and consistently. It doesn't matter what your position is. You've got to keep asserting the complexity and the originality of life, and the multiplicity of it, and the facets of it. This is about being a complex human being in the world, not about finding a villain. This is no time for anything else than the best that you've got.

- Toni Morrison





// my sun and her flowers



   think of those flowers you plant
   in the garden each year
   they will teach you
   that people too
   must wilt
   fall
   root
   rise
   in order to bloom 

- rupi kaur

// the house in the forest part I




The red house in the forest became our home just when the clouds shifted and summer became autumn. We saw autumn as we've never seen it before. All this beauty. Like a welcoming gift from the forest to us. A reassurance that we were doing just fine moving our whole life out here. And we were. More than just fine.



Kjenne verden rundt meg stoppe opp i det hun legger de små hendene sine rundt broren sin og kysser han på ryggen. 

Hvile i at øyeblilkket som var, alt er over.


Images have their way of dissolving and then abruptly returning, pulling along the joy and pain attached to them like tin cans rattling from the back of an old-fashioned wedding vehicle.

- Patti Smith

When the light is blue, then turns soft and every little sound strikes you as more beautiful than you have ever heard before.


in all its stillness. the winterlight came and alba was there. in it.

Every morning at nine in the morning my grandmother sits in front of this mirror. Getting ready for the day to come she gets dressed, puts on make-up while listening to the radio.

She has a small tray full of perfumes, a silver comb and small boxes with earrings and rings. When I was a child I used to love sitting in front of this mirror, trying on her lipsticks, spraying perfume and feeling like a grown-up. Momme would always be in the room and start combing my hair. When I was about five years old I would complain to her that my hair was too dark, too black, that I wanted to be blonde like my friends. My grand mother would stop combing my hair, telling me my black hair is beautiful.

She still does. I'm soon to be 30 and last week she was combing my hair again. Telling me I'm lucky to have my black, long hair. Nothing has changed, time stands still in front of this mirror. And I like it.

I love photographing in the pink mirror room in my grand mother's house. There is something about the light, the pink curtains softening the whole room and making it warm.





Jeg ble ikke helt ferdig med fuglene. Dette bildet er av en kvinne som var som en fugl da hun levde. Det er fra siste gang jeg besøkte henne før hun ble sengeliggende. Hun satt i den røde stolen sin mens fuglene svevde utenfor. Jeg husker jeg tenkte at kontrasten var så stor: Flaksende fugler mot slørete dager innenfor en rute.

This picture is one of the last pictures I took of her.


there will always be those women that every morning go out to feed the wild birds. this woman is from bhutan and the picture is taken some years back. today i saw another woman here in oslo. she did exactly the same thing: she feeds the wild birds. i came to think about this picture and this other woman at the other side of the world.



Tiden det tar å blunke. Det er de små sekundene når lyset treffer noe på en spesiell måte. Måten regnet faller på eller noe jeg ser i barna mine. Det kan vare så kort at jeg sekundet etterpå tror at det aldri fant sted. Noen få ganger klarer jeg å fange det. Det er i disse korte øyeblikkene jeg føler jeg befinner meg på innsiden av livet.




you asked me "where did the time go"? 

it went into noah and stayed. it made him grow.

it is as if i can see it in noah's body. where time now has a home.

time went in there and made my once so small baby bigger - made his toes and fingers grow from a baby's chubby hand into a child's hand with bdirt under his nails. time went into his hair and made it grow long and dark. into his eye lashes and made them black, thick and long. into his feet and taught them how to walk, run and dance. into his heart and taught him how to love. into his mouth and gave him teeth and smiles.

time went into my child and made him grow into the most beautiful human being. that's where the time went...

 i felt it was everything I had ever felt at the very same time. every feeling at its maximum - as if my whole life was compressed to those few hours that day in march. childbirth is life at its most extreme. it is life it self. 

new life shall be.

my daughter. alba.



This picture was taken some years ago. It was supposed to be a fashion picture for a school project. I did not manage to make the fashion thing. Instead this. 

I had forgotten how much I liked it and how it made me feel.

I love the idea of angels. That they protect us and shows up when we need them the most. I think we all need them from time to time. I wonder what it must feel like to be an angel.

This picture was taken a long time ago, back in 2011. Before my son was born. Before the day I found dust from an angel inside my heart. From that day I knew - I do believe in angels.


I decided that my new photo project will start with the closest of the close. And that is my husband and best friend. I started this project two days after we got married, and I'll continue it forever. I like the thought of a photo project with no ending and no deadline. Because love never ends and the story of lovers will never end - it will only change.



the beauty of sleep