The idea grew from the swathes of time I spent in the Stockholm Archipelago, and a mellow backdrop of the feeling I get there after the sun sets. Every day I would walk from the summer cabin, navigating rocky paths to eventually arrive at my favourite place. This spot was a rock flecked with black and grey, that grew from its craggy face to grasp at the sea. I would lay on this rock, gazing at the water, and the small islands, listening to how the waves would crash against the rocks in front of me. As I lay there, or swam among the bladderwrack, I could observe the beautiful ammophila being swayed by the wind’s rhythm, and listen to the delightful sounds surrounding me. The moonlight’s sparkling reflection on the water was breathtakingly beautiful, captivating my imagination.


There, in those moments, I am myself, and at one with myself. I feel steady, confident, and emanate independence. A prevalent feeling I get from the archipelago is the nostalgia of my childhood. I am reminded of my time as a young girl when my parents bought a beachside house in southern Thailand; I would spend a copious amount of time playing on the seafront. With delight, my joyful memories are recalled: collecting rocks, seashells, wild agarophyte, and coral from the water and what the water had swept up onto the sand. I have a million memories for every step I took on that sandy shore.


These thoughts drew me to the sea and rocks, which is why, in homage to my daydreams, old and new, I have named my collection ‘Sea Rocks’. It is a connection to what I remember, which is what I love about.


Erik Magnusson

Richard Keegan


Anne Patthaveekarn Kasiphongphaisan


Andrea Ekstrand

Anna Olsson

Josefin Wejner

Kudzai Nhunda