The feeling these images stir, - and maybe that is where they come from- is an urge to go out. Outside, outdoors. To leave the room, the house, the street, the town. To leave the studio, the easel, the canvas and human company. To wander in fields and woods, along rivers and in deserts. Not just to be out there and collect images, but also to act on a desire.
Art works through the senses, and when it aspires beyond the cheap thrill and decorative effect it could be described as a method of expanding our consciousness. These images are the result of the desire to establish a direct link between senses and consciousness. The works based on satellite images excluded, they are the product of someone walking through the terrain we see. He was not hovering above it in a balloon, or speeding over it in a helicopter or airplane. He was right there, alone, a physical part of the space, touched by the light, the wind, the snow. His kite and his camera the tool that enable him to become a sensing part of the land. He wanders around and is in touch with the smells, the heat, the cold, the dust, the bushes and trees. But he constantly imagines the position of the mythical bird, whose eye is in tune with the flows of matter, energy and light that escape conventional human perception. He is at two places at the same time, he is a walking human being and part of his consciousness hovers above his body, in another space time. He longs for the unknown quality of beauty to be found there. The line from the kite to his hand is the direct link between his senses and an expanded consciousness of the terrain.
Text fragment courtesy: Almost Nature / Dirk van Weelden (2015)