Complex landscape, contrasted to the extreme, of light and shadow, haunted by the memory, conscious but most likely unconscious, this irresistible attraction since the dawn of time, love and more North fascination with the South.
Man from the land of mist, pristine whiteness, shattered here and there by flashes of blue, grey and pink; Man of intangible continent, shifting, elusive and clear, populated by ghostly shadows heavy snow skies, the painful and brittle cold, who, one day at dawn every day, likes to dream of a wonderful elsewhere.
While sitting at the edge of an ocean of foam listening to the immemorial silence, she closes her eyes. Arises the dream. The sun, which sprays the wards, the heat, the humidity, the smells of spices and musk, dust dotted with gold, the color of days, the color of nights …
This ancestral dream … Sigrid Glöerfelt is now the messenger. She is the heiress of this immemorial fantasy. Moreover her land is not. It is in her, to the depths of her soul, her being.
She wears her world and with her brushes and her words, creates and shares it, fog and wind landscape with heady scents.
How to create a world of fire and ice without self destruction. That is Sigrid Glöerfelt’s quest, baladin and poet of the abyss.
– Evangeline Hersaint.