Like a crystal, the work that you see here grew almost as if by natural forces out of the site. 

Surely, I had spread the word that I was looking for scrap iron, searched dumpsters and scrap graveyards, contacted the farmers around.  My thought was that this material, having been torn down from original functions, left to rot, would be reintroduced the possibilities of shaping its own future manifestation.  I felt the urge to gather things together, believing that the different bits and pieces would manifest their inner logic and resilience and grow, blossom (of væmið?) into crystalisations that would build up a logical inner sense.  What has been torn down, would be torn up.

This could only make sense rooted within a local context, and I was assisted by a local driver and (krana- og vörubílstjóri) – who much to my amazement suggested humongous items, that I had for obvious reasons outruled due to their bulk. 

The sculpture took a crucial leap in scale, the whole idea resting on a foundation of two giant steal beams.  Their crossing marks a crucial point of departure, roots the rising sculpture within a very particular place.

The elements ascended from there in a very common-sense, almost practical fashion, the old capelin silo standing firmly on for legs on top of the cross.  I had foreseen some kind of a body, hence the symmetrical rule of thumb in the process of bringing pairs of items together, beginning with two huge truck floors resting face to face on the silo.  Then two giant showels, two wagons, a boat wagon paired with a truckbody, on top of that a refrigirator and finally ... a chair.

These were laid on the floor of the harbour, wielded together and finally erected on top of the base structure.

Aesthetics as we commonly talk about it was never a motor in the process, the various items were supposed to be able to manifest whatever form they demanded out of gravity, the inner balance of the different pieces and elements coming together. 

Nevertheless, in hinsight, it appeared and reflected a surprising reflection of man’s challenge, life and battle on excatly that site; how you choose a place, how you capture whatever that place offers from the sea, guarding it untill it is showeled up and away, untill it scales down, reaching the human realm by ending up in someone’s fridge – and finally you pracitacally feel the person sitting in the kitchen chair, nourished and energized by whatever started in the x below. 

The sculpture has now withstood particularly bad weathers during it’s first winter – but still stands strong and unmoved, reflecting at least to me its inner balance, power and resilience, echoing beginning and end of life’s history on the site and essentially, life’s circle.