Santiago, Chile



Commissioned by Colectivo Bla for art festival Hecho en Casa.

"A long time ago slept a troll in a hill
Or actually, it's not so long ago, as it lives there still
Some say it's just a fairytale and trolls aren’t real
But don’t believe what people say without thought and will

The entrance was blocked with ice when she woke up again
Her name was Ulla, and, thirsty, she crawled out the den
She walked through the snowy forest to the river and broke through the ice
Drank the running river water and went home and closed her eyes

She heard a sound from the forest – woke her up again
And saw a thousand animals, from the entrance of her den
They were big with long necks, scales, and nests full of eggs
She drank the running river water, then went home to take a rest

She was almost asleep when she woke up again
But she was so thirsty she had to leave the den
The sun was so bright she had to close her eyes
And let her finger feel the way till she found the riverside

Still with closed eyes, she knelt and splashed water on her face
Filled her hands and drank - but something was wrong with the taste
“Det smager af lort” she yelled and spat the water back 
Opened up her eyes and saw the river water – black

The forest was gone and everything looked unusually 
And big square stones stood where the trees used to be
And a million little people ran around between her feet
Ulla thought, “Maybe I’ll take one as my pet – they look so sweet”

She saw a green group, coved up in leaves and pines
Each holding a black stick as they walked a long line
They looked so fine, Ulla took one of them in her hand
The stick said “BAM” – she hurt her hand and put it back on the land 

Then Ulla saw another – it was red, holding a rope
Busy spraying water on a big cloud of smoke
Ulla thought “Maybe I’ll bring that one home – it looks nice”
She picked it up, but when she did, it sprayed her in the eyes

So Ulla wiped her eyes and put it down again
And wondered as she walked, if she would ever find a friend
But then she saw a tiny one – not yet fully grown
Playing a little shiny drum with a loud, sharp tone

Ulla picked it up, it smiled, and Ulla – she smiled back
She set it on her shoulder and then went to take a nap
The last we saw Ulla was walking back toward her den
What happens next, nobody knows till Ulla wakes again

Part of this exhibition

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