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For those of you who know me well, it won’t be a surprise that I have for a long time been contemplating to do a painting of the “musty, downtrodden, lots of layers and soft underfoot” forestfloor.

Here in the woods behind our cottage the forest floor is soft and damp and has the faint smell of something that has been wet for a long long time. The layered plantmaterial forms a “history” of decay and growth… a history of bygone and present all in one.

I don’t know how to find the words to explain what it means to me to walk there….. to listen to the buzzards’ call and to hear the trickle of water – ok, it might sound very very romantic even a bit too much….. but to my experience that is where I “recharge” my batteries and where I find the tranquility I need away from the “buzz”.

The artwork was done from a reference photo I took, but also from various leaves I have picked up – and the feather…. it was really there – I have this “thing” since way back with feathers… might sound odd/airy fairy but it’s a sign of hope – to me.

It was one of the most difficult paintings I have done in a looooong time, but very satisfying to say: c’est fini. It is done.


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