The power of motion in photographs intrigues me. Since owning my digital camera I started taking self-portraits and found out how many different faces one can have and how endless the possibilities are.
My self-portrait series is an ongoing one, ever evolving and proceeding into the future, leaving a trail of physical evidence of moments that have occurred and that I caught with my camera. A photograph happens, just like anything else in life.
The technique I’m using for taking pictures often gives me the feeling that I am almost painting with the colored light that falls into the lens of my camera. While bathing myself in the sounds of my favorite music; singing, dancing, rushing down a stream of emotions I shoot pictures more or less randomly, but controlled; reacting to what I see appearing in the expandable display. If the result is too blurry I will move slower; is it too focused I will move faster, always allowing my music to lead me. Music is the perfect medium to lure my emotions to the surface of my consciousness. It is thrilling to see how my method deforms reality. Motion, in a sense, can be seen as proof of life and it seems a contradiction that I manage to capture that in a still image. The images open up a world of unknown ethereal forms, faces, emotions and expressions. They remind me of my own mortality and vulnerability. The pictures make emotions visible, emotions that are oftentimes more primal than those commonly shown. It's almost as if the recording eye of the camera peels off and visualizes the layers in which I exist.
These mystical layers of life do not surface through computer tricks, although it does matter that my camera is digital because of the direct interplay between it and me during my process. The only manipulation I use to explore this unseen reality is to literally move the camera and myself.
What remains of a specific moment in my photos is unique - it can never be captured again. The images can never be taken again. The only thing that’s left is the picture itself. Time is very important in my work, the fact that it is impossible to capture the same group of colored dots again, symbolizes in my mind, vulnerability.
Looking at my titles one will notice that they consist of “Self-portrait”, followed by a date and a number. The numbers are automatically given to the pictures by my camera, and are for that reason also as unique as the image itself. Sometimes I also include in the titles an addition such as “#2”, denoting the second series of that day. Recently I started to include which music I was listening to as well. Titling my photos like this results in a visual diary and behind the images there is my knowledge of what happened that day in my life, that is if I remember it myself. At the same time it leaves the pictures open to be interpreted by the viewers in their own personal way.