Kristrún Rut H.Antonsdóttir

There is a crackle in the wood and a knock on a window Outside it is pitch black The large and ominous legs take heavy steps in search of long-awaited liberation, in the light of sunlight There remains a rock in a strange place, it has another one too. Where once stood a night troll, a supernatural phenomenon, a transformation intertwined with Icelandic nature is now seen The stones lie along, legends buried in colors and layers I hold in my hand and gleaning to find a connection Soft energy flows out from a hard surface resembling wool and envelops the body The weight of the stone pulls and deforms the loops of simplicity while the threads are strengthened by rotation The contrasts and harmonies intertwine in the brackets of darkness and sunlight.

.T.O.

There's a cracking sound in the wooden floor and a tap on the window. Outside it's pitch black. Heavy feet drag towards a long awaited reformation that occurs in the light of new day. Left behind is a rock in a strange place. Others like it can be found. Where once stood a night-troll, a new shape is found, intertwined with Icelandic nature. Rocks in the ground, tales carried in shapes and colors which I hold in my hand and collect to
feel connection. Soft energy radiates from the hard surface, like wool that wraps and
entangles the body. The weight of the stone pulls and deconstructs the loops of
simplicity while the threads get stronger from twisting. Contrasts and harmony are improvisations in the cracking of darkness and day.