gouache on paper mounted on board
50 x 50cm
My resilience is questionable; I have lost my momentum; lost my mother; question why make art at all; (yet I long for it); the fog is everywhere; my fingers are cold; friends are sad; I plant trees. I plant for the future, twenty years hence. Where will we be? Post pandemic? A better world? Will the future me smile and be grateful? All things pass, she says. Green. Man. I often think of nature watching humans making a stinking mess of things.