Teardrop

Boy and sticks…

In The Wild. Wild. Woods.

Today we went for a walk in the woods, just before sunset…

Stream lines

This is how nature looks like from my living room, when I’m painting plants from my head…

Dream catchers…

Here are some glimpses of my day… I have spared you the dentist appointment :)

I have also finished two paintings – one of which I have spent quite a bit of time on – but I am saving them both for in a few days time.

But here we go, here are my sketches of today:

Treasure hunts and empty spaces

“J’arrive quelquefois à ne penser à rien, et même pas comme l’ami Pierrot, à la mort de Louis XVI : d’un coup, je me rends compte que je suis là, que le métro vient de s’arrêter et qu’ayant quitté Dugommier quelques quatre-vingt-dix secondes auparavant, je suis maintenant bel et bien à Daumesnil. Mais, en l’occurrence, je ne suis pas arrivé à penser le rien. Comment penser le rien ? Comment penser le rien sans automatiquement mettre quelque chose autour de ce rien, ce qui en fait un trou, dans lequel on va s’empresser de mettre quelque chose, une pratique, une fonction, un destin, un regard, un besoin, un manque, un surplus…?”

– Espèces d’espaces, Georges Pérec.

:: :: ::

“I sometimes manage to think of nothing, not even, like Raymond Queneau’s Ami Pierrot, of the death of Louis XVI. All of a sudden I realize I am here, that the Metro train has just stopped and that, having left Dugommier some ninety seconds before, I am not well and truly at Daumesnil. But, in the event, I haven’t succeeded in thinking of nothing. . . . How to think of nothing without automatically putting something round that nothing, so turning it into a hole, into which one will hasten to put something, and activity, a function, a destiny, a gaze, a need, a lack, a surplus . . . ?”

-Species of Spaces, Georges Pérec.

There has been an empty space in the woods this year. Something – or rather someone – is missing. We haven’t heard the cuckoo yet. That could well be the very reason why the weather is so wet here.

Tree Portraits

During my daily stroll in the woods this morning, everything was wet and very muddy.

The streams were running very fast, the ferns, the tree trunks, the mushrooms and even the moss look all glossy and wet. So wet…

I decided to photograph portraits of some of the trees I walked amongst, to capture how they look when wet… All the photos were taken during this morning’s walk. I hope you’ll get to feel the atmosphere of this wet, windy, wonderful, whimsical, woodland, wordless walk… (Any more w words?).

Nuthatch

The woods are my church

The birds and bats, my choir

The priest, a badger.