When I was a child, I had a strong urge to find an important thing for myself.. Like most children, I wanted desperately to discover a treasure, such as a flint axe or an arrowhead from the bronze age. I think I was constantly searching for something, on the beaches, as well as in the heap of shell-sand on the neighbouring farm.In the summer the chances of finding a flint axe got better, as I often visited the farm of my relatives in Denmark. There they had made such finds before. During the long waiting period I realized that it was possible to bury a treasure myself. I knew enough about treasures to feel certain that the finer the material, the longer it would keep. One of my grand-fathers used to be a good shot. We had a variety of silver spoons that were prizes he had won in competitions. One of these lie buried on a tiny island in a mountain lake. The lake has since been dammed, the island has disappeared, but the silver spoon is still there as a treasure. Of this I am sure, because I was the one who placed it there.Not until I became a grown-up, did my archeological dream come true. In connection with an exhibition I was having in Sardinia, I was guided around the island. There had been Roman dwellings from early antiquity, which I would like to see. Somewhere near the ocean a whole town had been ruined by a landslide. Without flinching I started searching. All of a sudden I noticed something brown sticking out of the sand: It was a small terracotta thing, the size of a tea-spoon. It reminded me of a little ladle. I held it carefully in my hands, thinking of the person who once shaped it with her hands.

Later I took my find to an archeologist to get some information on what it might have been used for. It proved to be a tear collector, as it was customary to collect the tears that were shed during a burial ceremony, for later to be poured into tiny pots and kept as mementos of the deceased. The collector was a kind of utility article that the museums had plenty of, so they let me keep it.I had finally found my important thing.

Now and again I dream that I am one of a large team of archeologists with my own site to explore. We are all looking for a particularly valuable Greek amphora. Digging, I suddenly hit something solid, and - lo and behold - it is four pieces of the very vase! My heart is pounding, and I shout out to the others what I have found.Then I wake up.I have tried over and over again to catch up with my dream to find the one missing piece of the amphora, but until now, no chance.But, where there's a dream, there is hope!

P.S. I wonder if anyone will ever find the silver spoon I once buried.

The title of the painting is Amphora. The technique is based on a paper collage of previous pictures of the same theme. The collage has been photographed and transferred to black and white print. Mixed technique. Later hand-coloured. Colours: Acrylic. Type of paper: Rag paper. Size of original ppainting: 40x60cm.

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