Inside a disused tank, formerly a storage for petroleum oil:
I place a a strip of paper on the ground. It becomes walkway, a new layer on top of existing surfaces. The impact of my feet leave traces on the paper, and whatever is underneath, it rubs through.
A plumb line gets suspended into a glass filled with black ink, then it is being pulled, then loosely swinging above the white sheet. Gravity creates circles, lines, drops, and splatters. They add to and interlink with the imprints. Drawing on land. Allegedly, petroleum oil is outdated. The paper sheets get folded back into smaller rectangles just like maps, while the wind is about to take them. This pile of land drawings turn into a base for the wind turbine to be carried to its spot near the water edge. It could stand as a sign of our current times, at some point to be outdated just as petroleum oil.