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Five minutes

Five minutes before I loose sight of the cove
Five minutes before the clouds engulf the mountains
Five minutes before the ship turns and distorts the perspective
Five minutes before we are blinded by the fog.
Five minutes before all disappears behind this rocks.

Five minutes to encapsulate a world.
Five minutes to fix a future memory.
Five minutes to aggregate the sensations.
Five minutes to focus and reproduce.
Five minutes to stop thinking.

Five minutes of this tight frame.
Five minutes of tight constraints.
Five minutes of unidirectionality.
Five minutes of freedom.
Five minutes of flow, then stop.

Five minutes then it had to dry.
Five minutes then I stepped back.
Five minutes then I started thinking again.
Five minutes then I looked around.
Five minutes then came the next five minutes ■

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Relic

I look away from my paintings, from my exhibition. My eyes roam the room and glance over the stuffed animals of the “Vår Natur” (“Our Nature”) exhibition at the Natural History Museum of Stavanger. Among them, a wolf. But unlike the other animals here, this one doesn’t stand proudly. The taxidermists have not rendered the

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Keeping the breach open

Peregrine falcon in the distance in the heat haze. As is often the case in this kind of situation, I draw too big. It is small, too small, in the eyepiece of my spotting scope. However, I paint it large on my sheet of thirty by forty centimeters. The usual consequence is that I get

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The true reason of our anguish

“We [naturalists] try not to appear as weirdos, in our eyes and in those of Society, by camouflaging our anxiety at seeing nature disappear with fear of dying of hunger… But, if we were shown that the repression of nature can continue without economic damage, we would not be relieved, we would be saddened. So

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