Recently I came across an area in the woods where the forestry commission have been felling trees. It was a scene of devastation. Even though it is necessary for the tree growth to be managed and wood provided for our needs, it is, all the same, sad to see the clearance of so many trees at one time.
A few gaunt survivors, etiolated in height and sparcity of branch, were left like facsimilies stamped onto the water washed sky. Their unprotected forms creaked and swayed precariously in the buffeting wind, while at their feet new barbs of bramble, released from, shade struck forth with vigour into the ghost of cool leafyness.
The sight was shocking and inspiring at the same time and I plan to do a painting titled They know not what they do, referencing the crucifixion, the intervention of man in nature and the need for man to feel connected to nature and man’s ineffable ability to make things worse.