A simple task. To cut, fold and manually assemble strips of 1cm wide, circular cut paper within a select array of colours. Every single day for a whole, dark winter. The tempo unadjustable. In search of peace in the process and therefore also, hopefully, in the result.

By letting the work evolve in a very gradual flow of its own, the shape of the landscape grew itself.

In this era of haste and plenty, staying focused on one thing at a time is becoming a rare state of mind. Why move step by step, when we can go everywhere and have everything at the click of a button? We need never go slow again, need never be unentertained and need never more get our hands dirty.

Parallel to this addictive state of convenience, however, runs a longing to regain the sensuous, which disappeared together with dedication and presence when we lost focus. So we begin to bake again, to grow our own vegetables, to write letters by hand, all completely irrational exercises when measured in efficiency, but they feel so good – the key word being feel, the one word not so easily satisfied via digital buttons.

A few centuries ago people operated in time according to seasons. Today, we measure split seconds, and insist on trying to control nature rather than letting it dictate our lives, yet we know this is wrong, it often goes very wrong, and in our bones we remember and long for more natural existences.

What is the best way to make use of the time given us? We must each find our own answer, not once, but again and again during the various stages of our lives.

Still images courtesy of Cecilie Manz Studio