Saga:
The end of the world has never had a single telling. In the Norse tradition, the seeress of Völuspá foretells Ragnarök in verse; centuries later, Snorri Sturluson shapes the events into a prose account. The story survives through these different voices. The version I grew up imagining was less an ending than a meeting: separate worlds coming together and becoming, for an instant, one.
I see that meeting in the passage of the seasons. Spring brings birth; summer offers rest. In autumn, the world gathers itself for what is coming. Winter brings conflict, but also sleep—the stillness before another beginning. These photographs hold that pause. Their figures and landscapes seem suspended between what has ended and what might emerge.
I made the 35 images by altering Kodak Plus-X negatives. Gasoline ate into the film’s emulsion. I applied salt to the damaged areas and drew directly on the negatives with colored markers before printing them on color photographic paper. The marks were formed on the film itself: places where the image was lost, transformed, or given new color. No two negatives underwent that change in quite the same way.
For me, these images are fragments of a world at the threshold. They hold destruction and beauty in the same frame, as one story ends and another begins.
