Weights

My studio is filled with idle objects that must be forced into participation. They rarely sing or cheer. The floor is grey from all the snow I have dragged in. Heavy Timbaland. Self-help yourself: a tidy desk is a dead desk. I sort my books like a washing machine.

Inspiration likes to sit in a chair and drink coffee while I do the heavy lifting. Genius, always sipping something pink and cold, is teasing me from her sunny hammock.

Danger and depth can be easily posed, balanced and turned on the lightest of points; fresh days reinventing orange and then that long day where I manage to draw a straight line and make it look pretty.

Joakim Martinussen, 2013