amitai romm

graft

February 11 / march 25, 2023

Waves are a first. Not genesis-y or mythologically (but also that), they just are. Prior to any emotion comes a wave and this coherence might be scientific as well as poetic. Drawing a line is to begin understanding something, but will it be possible to thoroughly understand that any wave is a kind of handshake between beauty and facts. 

A small forest in the south-east part of Denmark is called Little Beech Forest. It is situated in very close proximity to Great Beech Forest, a bigger forest. Even in the lesser of the two beech forests, the soil contains a remarkably high level of chalk making both forests remarkably fertile. In a fertile forest, the forest floor is dense, thick with foliage and new trees for the coming wall-hung poetry.

Isn’t anything that disturbs the legality of straightness a wave. Isn’t any artwork a wave. Surely, surroundings existed before they were appreciated as landscapes, but not until landscapes started to be depicted could some industrious person come up with the certainty of nature-making through reproduction.  

Sculptures are more visible than waves, but which of the two is more natural. Casted matter not looking like trees but indeed being trees shaped into resemblance of insects. A black branch looking like a spine looking like a piece of industry looking like the coarse outline of a living being. 

Civilians have established a little forest, is this a ruthless transplant or a sustainable act of increased breathing. The civil faith in overcoming or downfall due to forced sprouting seems strong. Thanks to imagination high-tech exists thanks to images waves exist thanks to persistent questioning. Paper sustains fantasy.

Nanna Friis