Malin Gabriella Nordin: When I Close My Eyes

She likens her practice to a game of “telephone” in which the work in question is constantly shifting in form and meaning during its progression. When she feels too comfortable with a particular method or idea she abandons it and moves on to something new.

Your creative hunger seems to be independent of any particular medium. How important is the material to you?

My working process is in many ways reminiscent of a dialogue. I never know how a certain work will develop. I will make something that will evoke a reaction in the material and I will have to adapt accordingly. It’s about giving and receiving– one thing leads to another just like a dialogue between two people. It’s a very honest and direct creative process. If I make a “mistake,” I just continue and take it from there instead of erasing it.

I go back and forth between techniques and materials, setting different types of moods. Painting and sculpture is a lot more physical and direct for me, while collage has more to do with focus and time.

I’ve heard you’re inspired by the dream world. Can you take me into to your dreams?

It’s amazing that we experience a new, different kind of world almost every night when we go to sleep. Even the dreams that are very reminiscent of our daily lives still don’t follow the familiar laws of our space-time dimension. I’ve been to so many amazing places. I’ve seen so many unpainted paintings.

I also have sleep paralysis from time to time. For me, it’s like waking up on a different frequency where everything is a bit twisted and enclosed by a dark and evil filter. It feels like you’re encountering death. But at last, when I finally wake up, it never feels like it was just a bad dream, it feels as something that just has happened. It’s very scary, but also very intriguing.

Do you seek a meditative sweet spot when you work? A state of flow?

Sometimes I’ll be caught in a very intense and productive flow and won’t want to leave the studio for fear of missing out. But when I’m not, I don’t get so much work done– at least not outwardly– but I know that it’s growing inside. For me, it’s all about feeling and I don’t want to force things.

It can be very frustrating being in-between these productive phases. I often feel like I’ve lost it all… as if I’m missing an invisible, abstract body part I’m not sure I’ll ever get back. But so far, the “flow” or whatever you want to call it, has always returned to me. And for that I’m very thankful, but the in-between phases are of course very important to me and are a pivotal part of the process. It’s during these that I push my boundaries and ideas are being processed and shaped in my mind. I can almost feel this fizzling within me but I’m unable to release it until it’s fully ready. Until then, it’s just this vague notion of colors and shapes. I spend a lot of time with my sketchbooks.. waiting.

And where does your imagery come from?

It’s what rolls by when I close my eyes.
The curiosity for nature; whether it be of the introspective human-kind
or the living material, and the space between the two.
The things we don’t have an answers to and
therefore create an endless space for imagination.
And I think a lot about water.

When do you feel like you’ve really succeeded? And not so much?

Generally, I want a piece to have a sense of completion but still be filled with possibilities. I find it very tiresome with people wanting answers all the time: What is it? What does it mean? Why? I appreciate things that aren’t so given, like passing by a conversation and not getting to hear the end of it. It allows for more space for my own imagination to take precedence.

Once a work is finished, it’s both foreign and familiar to me at the same time. It’s almost like encountering a distant soulmate you haven’t previously met. My worst fear is to only do the same kind of work year in and year out; to get stuck.

I try to not to get stuck in old patterns so even if I continue working with collage, which I have since 2009, there comes a point where I can’t produce anymore for a while. In theory, perhaps I could make another one that would look visually appealing, but it won’t give me anything if it doesn’t feel truly right. Instead, when I feel stuck I try switching to a different media, material or size and hopefully I can find something in that which renders something new and leads me back to the former.

What is the most challenging part of the creative process for you?

The ups and downs.
The being in a flow and leaving it and feeling a part of myself lost.
The believing and trusting in my work even when I feel low.

When are you most alive?

When I’m in the flow of creating, it’s like a trance and time just disappears.
Watching a sunrise. After the dark winter, when spring comes and you
for the first time, in a long time, feel the sun against your eyes
and how it’s warming up your body with energy.
When I’m dancing.
When I’m swimming in the ocean.
And when I’m with the ones I love.