Isles of Mind
The islands appear without warning, an archipelago drifting just beyond the edge of the map, where geography starts to blur into memory. They exist somewhere between what we’ve seen, what we think we remember, and what might have been invented along the way. Like the mind itself, these islands are layered, flexible, and happily unconcerned with staying put.
Explorers who wander into these waters quickly learn that navigation is more suggestion than rule. What seems familiar on first approach may quietly rearrange itself on the next visit. Landmarks shift, horizons misbehave, and orientation relies as much on instinct as on eyesight. These imagined geographies mirror the way memory works, not as a fixed archive, but as something fluid, selective, and occasionally prone to embellishment.
In Isles of Mind, I mix and match fragments of landscape like pieces from different puzzles. Each island is built from real places, drawn from different locations or moments in time, yet combined into something new.