About

For as long as I can remember, my closest companion has been longing. A strong and wordless longing. Being creative is my way of exploring where it can take me.

Bringing in a bunch of fresh flowers to replace the faded ones. Choosing the perfect fabric and pattern to create and sew exactly the dress I want. Getting a new friend while reading a book—secrets, trust, and friendship. Losing myself in music and movies, singing, playing the piano.

These are all ways for me to get closer in my search. I find something. Like that time on the shore when I was a child and I discovered a perfectly polished turquoise shard of glass among all the brown ones. I held it in my hand. I search for treasures.

One way for me to express myself is through photography. When I take photographs, I am floating—completely present in time. Through my camera, I can turn an abstract feeling into a concrete picture, as if I am holding on to time itself.

When light and shadow meet, I see a magical and timeless calm, where the essence of life is written. In my pictures, I search for just that—light and shadow, the beauty of life.

I believe that life’s beauty rests in the silky softness of a petal. The fragile and the strong growing on the same branch. When light passes through a crack in a glass bowl, thousands of prisms fill the air—the beauty in the incomplete.

I grew up outside Jönköping, Sweden, surrounded by the same landscapes that often find their way into my photographs. As I got older, my longing led me away—to Gothenburg, where I spent several years, and later to Zürich, Switzerland. A new place, new conditions, a new rhythm. But longing remained—pulling me back to the place where it all began.

Now, I have returned to my childhood land outside Jönköping. My family and I are once again walking the same familiar paths, beneath the same gnarled trees that have always cast their shadows. The magic in the light is still here.

Many of my photographs are taken in these surroundings. The arrangements I create often consist of flowers from my own garden or my mother’s. Returning here feels like rediscovering something that has never truly left me. Perhaps this homecoming will find its way into my pictures—time will tell.

//Lisa