I have two gardens. One, is an open field, wild and dramatic, facing mountains and sea, crowded with a variety of creatures, from rats and eagles to battalions of snails in winter or cicadas and insects in summer. The other is tiny and tame, defined by a square fence, hosted with city sounds, birds, worms and pot plants, visited by an occasional cat.
The latter teaches me nurturing, it needs my constant attention, and would probably die without my care; in the wild one, I’m nothing but a passive admirer, it teaches me Not Doing.
Whether they are melting my heart under the sun, or wrapping my soul in a blanket, against the blowing winds, they teach me to pay attention to beauty. They bring me back to my senses; out there smells, sounds, colours and textures are more vivid.
In both gardens I spend hours daydreaming and painting. Child-like I am chasing butterflies or following beatles in the grass, I’m digging my hands in deep soil to collect nature finds and treasures.
Both gardens tell me about the seasons and about change, both rhyme about living and dying, and about the cycle of life. They inspire my art and my life, and give me little presents which I pass on to you, bundled up in a nice bouquet of wild flowers, dry leaves, and bulbs. Hope you enjoy them.
Post art: top: urban-garden moments, bottom: wild-garden nature finds. Watercolours on handmade paper, A5, A4, A6, ask me about them.