In Kapisillit, the land itself seemed to breathe—slow, vast, and alive. Sketchbooks remained closed; the real work was done through sensation. Ice breaking in the fjord, the pull of wind across stone, the hush between mountains—all of it entered the body before it could ever be rendered by hand. Later, these impressions returned as glyphs:…

In the Greenland project, vector abstraction was a way of listening differently—of hearing the land not through sound, but through contrast. The process distilled vast, felt impressions into glyph-like forms, maps of something more essential than landscape. Each silhouette emerged from a slow, intuitive reduction, where what remained was the pulse of place itself: energetic,…