These vessels serve as biotopes, showing the aliveness of Iceland’s inorganic materials. Though the vessels may seem static at first glance, they are constantly moving. I made salt crystals form within some of the vessels, such as those that occur on freshly formed lava. In others, steam was captured, either to be trapped within the glass or allowed to leak out slowly throughout the exhibition. Salt continues to crystallize, steam condenses, and so the appearance of each biotope evolves. Even glass itself slowly drips on a molecular level. This impermanent quality makes the installation look different from one day to the next.

During my stay at the SÍM Residency in Iceland, I was able to work with the Icelandic glassblower Anders Vange. I asked Anders to create 28 glass vessels with me and to teach me the base of glass blowing. In Iceland, it becomes visible how the inorganic materials shape and re-shape the land, sometimes even in dangerous ways. Here, the ground beneath your feet is in a state of constant motion. Lava cools and forms new land, steam rises from geothermal areas, and water erupts from the earth with volcanic force. This dynamic interplay of elements challenges what we consider to be “alive.”

As an artist, I work like an alchemist. I am interested in the boundary where science meets magic, the place where we know too little to fully understand. I explore natural processes, their stories, and their enchantment. I extract pigment from plants, melt sand into glass, and transform rust into dripping red shapes in glass.

I am also fascinated by the queerness of nature, which I see as something boundless and fluid. Think of the dripping of glass, the leaking of rust, and the delicious, almost sensual colors of flowers and plants. Through my alchemy, I try to challenge the colonial framework of science, which divides the world into different groups, such as the living and non-living nature. In doing so, I hope to inspire a sense of wonder in my audience for the non-human nature.