Yuna Solberg

Meet the artist

Yuna Solberg

I look up until swallows become architecture. Gravity can wait. Most of my pictures begin on a stair, a sill, or a cage left open on purpose. I want the second after takeoff — the saffron ribbon still on the step, the bird already belonging to the sky. Freedom, to me, is a joke the light tells: the creature is outside looking in, and the room is better for it. I do not explain the joke. I frame it, and I leave.