I painted my first picture in 2013 when I was four months pregnant with my daughter. This pregnancy was particularly poignant as I had endured three miscarriages between this pregnancy and the births of my two sons. It was clear to me that those children who couldn’t or shouldn’t have been born were girls. My inner fear that I wouldn’t be able to protect them caused my miscarriages. Only when I had battled my inner fears to a certain degree, and at the same time had given up on having a third child because of my age, did destiny send me my little girl. This pregnancy was the inspiration for my first picture.

How I came to print my nature photography on canvas, to cover my whole body with clay colours and roll onto that canvas, I don’t know. In any case, it was liberating, an act of total freedom and happiness. The theme of this first picture naturally became transformation; in the sense of metamorphosis; of skinning; of rebirthing; and of letting go and starting all over again. It is a cycle that is true for all our lives – more or less perceptible and perceived. Picture and text in my work always form in parallel; one can’t be without the other. At that time this wasn’t clear to me. I stood in front of the picture and knew there was something missing. I found a piece of velvet in my wardrobe and wrote on it:

Shedding my skin. Year after year. Again and again. Until my feet grow into the ground. And my hands into the sky. Some days later, I understood what was missing on my painting and incorporated this text into my painting.

Bis mir die Füße in den Boden wachsen

und die Hände in den Himmel.