Repetition and Labour: Letting the Materials Take Their Time

Some art happens in a flash of inspiration, but my work is different, it's built through repetition.

In the studio, my days are spent in a cycle of small, repetitive gestures: placing, adjusting, building density, stepping back and returning again. There is no single "eureka" moment where the piece suddenly appears. Instead, the form emerges slowly, through time. I’ve come to realize that this repetition isn't just a routine, it’s a way of thinking through my hands.

Time as Material

Working with preserved moss and plants means working at a pace that simply cannot be rushed. Each piece is lightweight, irregular and responsive. You can’t force a stem into place; you have to consider it, find its curve, allowing it to sit in harmony with the pieces around it.

I’ve started thinking of time as one of my primary materials. What might look effortless from a distance reflects hours of placement, adjustments and attention.

I love how this slow process changes the way we look at the work. You find yourself moving across the variations in depth and shadow, discovering the piece gradually, much like the slow process I used to create it.

Labour as a Form of Attention

People often call this kind of repetitive labor "meditative," and it is. But it’s also a form of precision. My work grows by becoming more intense. Each action is small, yet it contributes to a larger structure.

As repetition goes on, the work begins to behave like an entity of its own. Light moves across it, creating shadows in small cavities, making the work change with time and perspective.

I’m drawn to this transformation from surface to landscape. The work invites a way of looking that is slower and closer, creating mindful moments of connection to the natural world.

In today's super-fast world, making things slowly by hand feels like an act of rebellion. It doesn’t follow the speed of a screen or a machine; it just requires me to show up, stay present and take my time. This slowness is exactly what allows the work to become complex and meaningful. It’s only by slowing down that I can truly listen to the materials and let the art find its own way.