There are these trees that just appear monumental, and this is one of them. During a walk at the edge of a forest on a warm spring day, I noticed this large oak tree that had fallen over. However, this didn’t stop the tree from growing. In fact, it seemed even more alive. What made this situation also unique is that I could approach the tree from the top instead of looking at the trunk and at the crown from below. I could actually portray the tree while being inside its crown and being surrounded by its own branches.
Of course this posed some practical challenges, like setting up my easel, because everything was so dense. And every time I wanted to check my painting from a distance, I had to view it through layers of leaves and branches. But once set up and painting, I loved being there. Looking back at the experience, I think it felt a little bit like when I was a kid and had just built a little hut and you sat quietly in there just observing and enjoying the feeling of being inside a cocoon. This tree created such a feeling of being inside a cocoon where you could see the sunlight coming through, which, in cooperation with the leaves of the tree, created a slow-moving, lightened-up pattern of organic shapes and textures.
For this painting I visited the place three times because I felt that the complexity of the textures and the movements had to emerge onto the canvas in layers. Like the weaves of an actual cocoon.
A side note. Talking about cocoons… After all, this is an oak tree, and it was painted on warm days in May. Many oak trees have processionary caterpillars on them, and they shed tiny hairs that are very irritating to the skin. This oak tree was no exception, so for weeks I was enjoying itchy skin on my arms. But it was worth it…
