I see an ant.

Walking on what may look like a bright pink desert.

Seeking a direction, almost like smelling its forward path it goes sideways, backwards, forward, in uneven waves.

Gradually it reaches the end of the pink table and disappears.

Then after a while the environment changes.

With a breeze that touches my right cheek comes the the rain. Slowly but constant.

I see men by the river.

I do not see them washing their car by running it straight through the river, as they apparently do.

I would love to see that.

What I do see is a white butterfly. Moving in seeking patterns similar to the ant. A dog is passing, stopping and gazing out at the view. It smells the air and then quickly hunts the sound of somebody hitting a bucket.

Now the sun is back.

I must have been gone for a while. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.

When I look up I see green hills with a shape like this (arm moving)

Out in the field everything is open.

The ground is warm. The grass is about 15 cm high.

When I look down into the field I discover its richness. Insects of various kind and sizes, the names of which I don’t know.

Rocks of various kinds, none that look the same.

An ocean of ants crawling on a muddy hill, a little yet gigantic hill.

Green grass of various sorts.

I really shouldn’t be placing my feet on this ground.

Now I need the toilet.

I am back.

Dear field of grass.

How I respect you. How I cherish you. But still I must admit, I don’t know you anymore.

You have secrets that to me becomes fantasies. Fantasies that scare me.

I hear a “hussing” sound.

I move away and then I think: A snake? My thought was slower than my reaction.

And my writing takes more than a lifetime.

I see a computer.

I see my self standing in an open field of grass with a computer. I see myself writing about what I see.

I hear the sound of a bee traveling so I turn around. Now I see the sun behind the clouds.

I press save.

I worship this present moment and do not want it to go away.

I stop.

I think.

What do I see?

I see Georgia.

Desert mountains close by. Snow on top of the distance mountains.

Layers and of mountains in all directions.

No, not everywhere.

Somewhere I only see treetops melting with white clouds.

The clouds have cotton shapes and I don’t know what’s behind.

More mountains?

The wind is both occasionally and constant.

It has no nationality.

I wonder where it has been, where it started, where it will end.

I see a butterfly. A beautiful cliche.

It could cross boarders if it wanted to. So could I. Not everyone can do that.


I hear a lot I do not see.

Some ducks. Birds pretty much in every direction. An occational car. Some occational dogs.

Am I on the internet?

I see a bed with a white sheet blowing in the wind.

An old rusty bed with metal decorations. Old. Nice. It is a single bed. I walk towards the bed.

I see an old chewing gum.

I see a paper cup.

I see somebody walking up in the desert mountains.

I think it is some cows.

I lay down. Will I fall? No, it’s ok.

Now I have sun on my face.

“Hello, you fool, I love you”, not a Rednex, but a Roxette song pops into my mind.

Now the time is 1027 in Norway,


1228 in Georgia.

Nytt seminar i rekken “Koreografer for fremtiden”

Temaet denne gangen er Koreografi og produksjon, og foregår 28.mars.

Tid: fredag 28.mars kl 10-15

Sted: Styrerommet (bak Kantinen), Kunsthøgskolen i Oslo

Seminaret ønsker å belyse hvordan et kunstneriske prosjekt er satt sammen av en praktisk organisering og hvilke konsekvenser denne organiseringa gir for det kunstneriske prosjektet. Seminaret inviterer til en diskusjon om hva som skjer med kunsten når den skapes og vises i andre kontekster og hvordan refleksjonen rundt produksjonsvilkår kan være med å påvirke hvilken kunst som blir skapt.

Inviterte innledere:

Per-Gunnar Eeg-Tverbakk er en norsk kunstner og kurator som disputerte i 2012 med prosjektet “Rom for innblanding” ved Kunsthøgskolen i Oslo. Tverrbakk var med å starte opp Kunsthall Oslo og har kuratert galleriutstillinger, biennaler og prosjekter både nasjonalt og internasjonalt.

Hooman Sharifi og Ida Gudbrandsen.
Sharifi er kunstnerisk leder og koreograf for Impure Company. Gudbrandsen var ansatt som produsent frem til ho starta som medskapande utøver i kompaniet i 2011. Impure Company produserer scenekunst som vises nasjonalt og internasjonalt. I 2013 arbeidet de med “Once upon a time country” under Høstutstillingen i Oslo.

Henriette Pedersen og Morten Kippe.
Pedersen er koreograf og arbeider et sted mellom teater, dans og visuell kunst. Kippe er utdannet cand. mag i kunsthistorie og har arbeidet som produsent innenfor det frie scenekusntfeltet i Norge og Tyskland. Sammen med flere samarbeidspartnere åpnet de dørene til et atlier på Kunstnernes Hus fra okt 2013 til feb 2014 for prosjektet “Das Nebelmeer”, andre del av triologien “Riding Romance”.

Påmelding i tiden 12. til  23. mars HER. Begrenset antall plasser.


A floor safari

Hello earth. Today we have been looking at floors. Strange? Perhaps, but in the Lofts there are different cards with tasks written by Arakawa and Gins. One of these are “Use the floor to chart the intricate set of actions by which you succeed time and again in regaining your balance”.  Difficult task, indeed- and here are some thoughts.

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Into the woods


I am outside the door. The floor is cold. There are sounds everywhere. Both near and distant. Birds integrate with the humming traffic, both of which are playing with the speed of sound. Slowing down and stopping, starting and moving again. A crow is surprisingly cutting through space as if its looking for action. It draws my attention and make me smile. Then I go towards the door, and stand in front of it. I “knock-knock-knock” in the most stereotypical way. I open the door, close my eyes and enter the space.

“WOW! Hello space. You have changed since the last time I saw you”.
I have completely lost my orientation! The bumpy floor has now become a steep hill. I struggle to keep my balance and get a bizarre sensation of climbing downhill from a mountain. Yet I know I am inside a room! The structure of sand on the floor, contains millions of details. And only a very few I am able to grasp. As I slowly carry on my “hike”, I meet all sorts of textiles, sharp edges, wires, poles, cold and warm surfaces (which in fact turned out to be my computer- haha), fake fur, patterns. All objects of which I in this space, with my eyes closed, somehow see as the “nature of things”. I am in the woods.