Eva Ísleifs

This is a hazy connection to a story passed down by my grandmother. Much like when the horizon grows misty, blurring the line where sky meets sea. I drop into the narrative, images flashing through my mind. There she is, offering them freshly baked, sugar-rolled pancakes on a plate. Just before docking, the ship paused at the harbor mouth as customs officers boarded to inspect—and to enjoy a quick coffee and pancake. I don’t get seasick; it feels as though sailor’s blood runs in my veins, a quiet surge of pride. As if the ocean and I have struck an agreement. The sea is a second home, a floating matriarch.

There is a circle, a triangle, and a square. The space between me and you is abstract—like playing with elementary shapes in an abstract structure. The term geometry stems from the Ancient Greek γεωμετρία (geo- 'earth', -metron 'measurement'). This could be a form of geometric connection, an earthly kinship. The symbol of the lifebuoy meets the concept of the perfect form. We rely on forms and frames to contextualize and connect. And then, right there, they fly outside the frame. The work is titled 'Guardians'—they guide us onward, for at sea, the story of the bird has always been the story of a protector. I was told that finding a feather brings good fortune, often a message from the beyond. I’ve been playing with resting the feather in my palm, letting the wind carry it away, breathing in deep—and out, in unison. Eva Ísleifs 2025. Long before it was a long time ago.