I can’t paint. I can put paint on a canvas, but I wouldn’t call it painting. But knowing that nature is pretty amazing at claiming itself to be art, I set out to prove it right, capture it, and sell this art as my own. In a geothermal area in northern Iceland, where the shallow underground magma boils the groundwater, which in turn melts the sedimentary rock and spews it up as hot mud in all kinds of crazy colours, I spent hours shooting it. The mud took over, embodying, covering my consciousness, painting my memory cards, and I couldn’t stop. Everything was a painting. But a boiling one. They made sounds and smells. then they spoke. All they want is to be understood, painting away. This is the earth getting in touch. To touch you. With its hot paint.
