Fossils are part of Earth's history. They carry a strange power that makes us dream of distant worlds. Nautiloids, giant flying creatures, ammonites and ancient whale bones rise up like sculptures on forest floors, in tidal pools or out of cliff walls. Exquisite engravings of ferns, prints of veined wings of strange insects and impressions of dinosaurs feathers are preserved, like sacred scriptures, on ancient stone tablets. They are fossilized testaments of the passage of life, grafted to stone.
These ephemeral installations are laid in nature, reminiscent of ancient vertabrae, seashells or armored carcasses of strange creatures, stranded in the landscape, weathered and bleached by the passage of time. They serve as reminders of a past geological age. They bring to the light of day, the remains of lifeforms, preserved in the earth's crust, undisturbed for tens of thousands, even billions of years.
We, humans, are also part of the fossil record. These installations are a call to remember that we are all but a fragile presence on Earth, this wonderful planet that is both our cradle and our grave.