In my work I explore how time, memory and landscape can materialise in textile. Weaving and embroidery are slow, bodily processes in which the gesture of making remains visible.

During my stay in Argentina I experienced an intense sense of homesickness. My thoughts kept returning to childhood holidays in Switzerland with my father, who has since passed away. The memory was so strong that I realised you can sometimes feel closer to a landscape or a person from afar than when you are physically there. That experience — being closer from a distance — forms an important undercurrent in my work. It can offer comfort in the grief of missing a place or someone who is no longer there.

Making is for me a way of connecting past and present. While working I enter an almost dreamlike space where memory and the present converge. The process feels less like a task and more like an experience: a state of attention and repetition in which time seems to stand still.

In a world that is becoming ever faster and louder, I deliberately seek out slowness. I want to make the beauty in the world visible — not as an escape, but as a counterweight. Beauty arises for me in slow work, made with care, attention and curiosity. As Sheila Hicks says: "We're crying for softness."

My practice feels connected to the legacy of female textile artists of the twentieth century. Their work and words offer recognition and courage. In Argentina I found the space to discover what is truly my own: the freedom to do what I needed to do, without predetermined expectations.

I prefer to work with natural and antique materials from around the world: self-dyed wool, hand-spun wool from Peru, artisan-made silk ribbons from Paris, and existing handwork in which generations of thought and attention have been invested. I see these materials as carriers of memory and history. By building up layers, drawing threads together or leaving space open, a tension field arises between presence and absence.

Landscape appears in my work not as image but as experience: an accumulation of time, movement and stillness. Recurring forms such as bundles, circles and horizon lines function as anchor points — places where material condenses and comes to rest.

Agnes Martin wrote: "Beauty illustrates happiness." In my work I try to allow beauty and memory in together without them turning into nostalgia. My textile works are quiet registrations of time, attention and action — present in the now. By reusing old techniques and materials, I bring their history with me into the present.