Photo series produced in Norway at the monastery on the island of Halsnøy, with the Sunnhordland Museum.

Døgnvill is an untranslatable Norwegian word. It refers to those moments when you can no longer tell day from night, a metaphor for those floating states of consciousness, when you slip into a widening and when time disappears.

I have let myself go with the images that spring from unfiltered thoughts, invented rituals, games of chance and plunges into nature. Taking photos on the edge of consciousness. I contemplated the blue hour, swam in cold water, followed strangers at sea, painted my body, read books at random, explored the forest at night, followed animal tracks. I meditated, listened to the invisible world, the murmur of the trees. In a vertigo, my photography became a dance.

It was a shamanic feeling, bewitched by stories of ghosts, of monks, and of the lightning that split the trunk of the oldest ash tree in Norway, in the monastery where I was staying. Tracing the lines of my travels on a map of the island, the shape of a comet appeared. I looked for the presence of the star in my photos, like a cosmic echo of my experiences.

Red resonates with the Red Way of the Amerindians, a path of initiation, of vision, linked to nature. And of confronting one’s fears, alone at the top of the mountain.