Mirrormask
Tales of Gods and Demons
The Unquiet Landscape
Places, which left a haunting or sublime impression on me.
Secrets of the Water
Water is a source of infinite fascination for me. The way it can hide or reveal things with its reflective surface or its endless black depths has always been an inspiration to human imagination, and I am no exception in this regard. As an often used allegory for the passage of time, it is also…
Fragments of Trees
The fractal nature of trees is a fascinating visual magnet, that is apparent in all parts of a tree, from the “veins” of a leaf, the smallest branches to the tips of its roots.
Hiraeth
Hiraeth (n, Welsh): a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past.
Piranesi – The Labyrinth
“There is no need to build a labyrinth when the entire universe is one.”~ Jorge Luis Borges ~
Pockets of Wilderness
There are few old growth forests left in Europe, and not really any untouched wilderness at all. But sometimes on my wanderings through our forests I come upon an area that looks surprisingly wild and almost untouched, where a combination of rocks, mossy trees, undergrowth and fallen branches create an atmosphere that seems almost primeval.…
Dreams of the Sea
Ah! what pleasant visions haunt meAs I gaze upon the sea!All the old romantic legends,All my dreams, come back to me.~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ~
The Unique Personalities of Trees
Trees need not walk the earthFor beauty or for bread;Beauty will come to themWhere they stand.Here among the children of the sapIs no pride of ancestry:A birch may wear no less the morningThan an oak.Here are no heirloomsSave those of loveliness,In which each treeIs kingly in its heritage of grace.Here is but beauty’s wisdomIn which…
Silence
In dense fog, my walking companions often bemoan the lack of a view. I, however, treasure the rare moments when the onslaught on my senses is highly reduced.When I see very little, but vague shapes and fragments. When I hear nothing, but my own steps. When I smell only the moist air itself.It’s like walking…