The figure rises, stretching into space until body becomes skyline. The upward motion is quiet, but it carries force, a fragile insistence that growth is possible, even necessary. The arm extends, the back lifts, the gesture unfolds with a certainty that does not need completion to have meaning. In this moment, becoming is not an arrival but the climb itself, the body building its own horizon with nothing but breath and bone.

Fabric surrounds the reach like air thick with weather, amplifying the ascent without breaking its intimacy. There is vulnerability in this posture, the risk of stretching, of wanting, of testing edges, yet it is this very vulnerability that makes the gesture monumental. What emerges is a photograph that holds longing and declaration together, showing how even the simplest reach can alter the space around it, how desire itself can shape the air.

Here the body becomes its own shelter. Petals gather across the face, fabric folds across the torso, and together they construct a space that is both protective and luminous. To cover is not to vanish; it is to create boundaries, to define presence on one’s own terms. Sanctuary, in this image, is not somewhere else. It is here, made in the act of shielding, in the choice of what to show and what to hold back.
The stillness feels ritualistic, charged with devotion. The flowers are not decoration but offerings; the fabric is not clothing but architecture, building a threshold between the self and the gaze. What is revealed is not silence but a form of speech that does not rely on exposure, a language of privacy, of reverence, of control. This photograph holds the truth that to protect oneself is not to diminish presence but to strengthen it, to make it sacred.

A dark crescent rises before a radiant red disc while a seated figure holds still at its edge. Light is the primary material: breath-driven data subtly widens the halo, shifts luminance, warms the red toward amber.

In this work, repetition becomes ritual. The body returns to familiar gestures, the curve of the shoulders, the tilt of the head, the embrace of fabric, and in that returning, something enduring is built. Flowers gather around the face, soft but insistent, a veil that does not erase but transforms the way presence is carried. Here, concealment is not refusal but persistence; the body speaks in a quieter language, one that does not need to reveal everything in order to exist fully.

The textures are thick with memory: fabric weighted like history, petals tender and temporary, light touching the skin with the gentleness of a remembered place. Each element layers onto the body like time itself, like the accumulation of days. The photograph does not seek spectacle; it dwells in continuity, the kind of continuity that makes survival possible. In its folds and shadows, this work holds devotion, endurance, and the slow strength of always returning to oneself

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

Also available as a print edition

The stair void anchors depth so the scene reads as a calibrated field rather than a picture—perception is tuned by gradients, glare, and after-image as the environment slowly reorients around the body.

A green chamber whose surface behaves like a living membrane. Behind artist, a morphing pixel-field continuously reconfigures—crystalline cells liquefy into glossy reliefs, then resolve again—while subtle breath and micro-movement nudge scale, luminance, and flow. Light is treated as volume: the background’s shifting “pixels” articulate depth and gently recalibrate the space. The piece —turning stillness into a programmable field.

A handheld sun rests between the artist’s palms, casting a pink chamber into orbit around it. The room behaves like an integrating sphere: light spills, rebounds, and softens until space feels pressurized rather than pictured.

Drawing on the Light & Space tradition, Solar Reliquary treats perception as subject—gradients, glare, and reflection recalibrate attention and spatial awareness—while the generative system translates bodily data into atmosphere.

A dark crescent rises before a radiant red disc while a seated figure holds still at its edge. Light is the primary material: breath-driven data subtly widens the halo, shifts luminance, warms the red toward amber.

An ultra-wide, mirrored panorama of liquid-metal membranes folds and unfurls around a solitary figure. The artist’s micro-movements seed a generative system that translates movement vectors into chromatic currents—crimson and cyan—sculpting specular surfaces that expand and recede like tidal light. Aether Reservoir treats beauty as infrastructure: data metabolized into atmosphere that orients attention, settles the nervous system, and leaves a trace in memory.

Underwater self-portrait. A quiet pause from the world. Interlude continues Norup’s exploration of how hypersensitivity shapes one’s perception and experience.The work received an Honourable Mention at the 23rd Julia Margaret Cameron Award for Women Photographers.

Also available as a print edition

Underwater double self-portrait, 2023. A meditation on connection andorigin, this underwater portrait draws from the Nordic herdingtradition of kulning—a vocal call meant to travel across vastdistances. The image is accompanied by a poem that evokes the strengthof twin souls born together, separated, yet eternallyintertwined.Tvillingernes Ursang was the Category Winner of the 23rdJulia Margaret Cameron Award for Women Photographers and received thePrize of the Holbæk Art Association exhibition, 2024.

Composite self-portrait. A poetic convergence of physical and emotional memory, where the body is both archive and ocean—haunted by inheritance, and buoyed by resilience.

We didn’t pose. We were present. No wetsuits, no masks - nothingbetween our skin and the ocean. Nine women, like mermaids, enteredthe icy 11°C waters, completely bare, raw, fearless, and free. Whathappened wasn’t a performance. It was a surrender. A quietunfolding. A return. This was more than a photoshoot. A stillmoment that echoed something ancient and true. We are not separatefrom nature. We are nature. Cape Town, South Africa

We didn’t pose. We were present. No wetsuits, no masks – nothing between our skin and the ocean. Nine women, like mermaids, entered the icy 11°C waters, completely bare, raw, fearless, and free. What happened wasn’t a performance. It was a surrender. A quiet unfolding. A return. This was more than a photoshoot. A still moment that echoed something ancient and true. We are not separate from nature. We are nature. Cape Town, South Africa.

Spontaneous shoot with artist's close friends Pauline and Bianca, theyjumped in the pool fully naked after they got soaked in the tropicalrain. Bali. Indonesia

Women from different corners of the world came together — from Africa, Europe, Asia. Among them were both Ukrainian and Russian women.

They lay with their bare bodies on sharp, glass-like fragments of hardened lava. It was painful. The lava left scratches on their skin. This act became a performance — a gesture of unity, pain, acceptance, and strength. They lay side by side, without division, as a symbol of equality and peace.

We are all red inside. The lava represents renewal, a symbol of cleansing and complete liberation from prejudice, from everything that divides us. Out of burning pain, something honest, raw, and alive is born.

Bali. Indonesia

Tracing our footsteps back to the origin, the ocean. Like an umbilicalthat ties us back to the womb. Created in collaboration with twentyincredible women, with very long hair.

In the whirlwind of the modern world, technology becomes an integralpart of our lives, wrapping us in a soft, almost imperceptible fabric,penetrating every aspect of our life.This invisible yet tangible layerbecomes part of our existence, offering support, but at times alsocausing dependence.This scene conveys the beauty and complexity of theinteraction between humans and technology, emphasizing their deepinfluence on our life and serving as a reminder of the importance ofmaintaining balance and not losing ourselves in this smooth immersion.