Ephemeral art, by it’s very nature is impermanent. So is life. Birth and death go hand in hand. For me it’s also about attachment. Being attached to an idea about what life should be like, or what art should be like. As I was standing in the freezing cold, with bleeding hands, and seeing this form take shape I had to fight the idea about being attached to the work. That it may simply reform the shape of a grass tree within hours. It’s beauty was shared with no-one. I walked away, and thought what’s left behind can be the most powerful thing to move us forward.