Oh how I missed the sound of rushing water! Many small rivers end down here, in the fjord where we've parked our home on wheels right at the foot of for a while.


As a child, I remember spending a lot of time breaking my brains on how one could destroy water, but I could never work it out - burning/boiling/freezing than smashing - it would always show up in a new way. I'd find myself daydreaming about where the water that held up my body would come from - how old it was, how old that would make me(??!), how far it had traveled, what forms it had taken on.. would it have been there for, like, always?


I love that, the longer you stare at moving water, it dissolves before your eyes into shapes and colors and lights and darks, an ever-moving substance, glacing the rocks and plants within, making sunbeams dance.


This oil painting was painted on a piece of 13,5x13,5cm prepared oil painting paper. It's varnished and taped and stitched to a piece of 20x30cm lightly textured watercolor paper - ready to frame and live on your wall for a loong time! 



There's a River in My Veins