I cycle into the forest to a place where I can see the sea.
I sit in the shade of a tree and paint on a piece of cardboard. It holds. I have sealed the surface, and the oil paint does not seep into the material.
Instead, it moves through my senses and my nervous system.
Slowly, I build a frame — a small window into eternity.
I cycle into the forest to a place where I can see the sea.
I sit in the shade of a tree and paint on a piece of cardboard. It holds. I have sealed the surface, and the oil paint does not seep into the material.
Instead, it moves through my senses and my nervous system.
Slowly, I build a frame — a small window into eternity.
Image 1 of 4
Image 2 of 4
Image 3 of 4
Image 4 of 4