I saw a woman dancing with a wolf and it was real

(2023-2025)

 

 

 

I’ve been listening to fairy tales and mythical stories for as long as I can remember.
As a child, they offered me comfort and space. I loved their strangeness; the idea that anything was possible. In those stories, I felt at home. Free to dream, to wander, to feel.

But when I moved from the village to the city as a student, I lost that feeling.
The noise. The rawness. It was overwhelming. Slowly, I lost touch with myself.
One day I asked myself: how do you live when you no longer feel what gives you direction?

During an artist residency, in which I performed, I had an insight.
I was buried under paper pulp. It felt like a second skin.
Heavy. Stilling. Stripped of appearance or identity.
Only my inner world remained tangible. Raw. Animal. Powerful.
In that moment, the image of a wolf appeared.

That wolf led me back to the stories of my childhood.
Stories that have been passed down for centuries,
about where we come from and where we are going.
And suddenly I understood: these stories are not outdated.
They can offer guidance now, too.

Since then, I’ve worked like an archaeologist of my inner world.
In the silence of meditation, I dig. Layer by layer.
Symbols appear: the egg, the spider, the wolf.
They are images from the collective unconscious,
a universal reservoir of human experiences, symbols, and archetypes,as Carl Jung described.
They carry meaning.

To me, the egg represents birth.
The spider, the mother and the web of connection.
The wolf, instinct and strength.

When I became a mother, an even deeper layer opened up.
My body was completely in service of new life.
It was magical and raw at the same time.
Never before had I felt my instinct so sharply,
the primal power of the female body,
and the connection to all the mothers who came before me.

My images are rituals.
Performances in which I use my body to make my inner visions visible.
They don’t give answers.

They whisper softly, but clearly:
To you, powerful woman.