‘For long years the forest sung to her as she slept. It sung of black earth, clean airs, deep water, and the endurance of trees. But then it sang of iron teeth, fuming machines, and flesh that bleeds red. And she awoke.’
(part of my story in progress)
Acrylics, watercolour, pastel, and colour pencil on 300gsm watercolour paper; approx. 5.5 x 8.5 inches
Prints and nice things available here.
A (very abbreviated) making of:
Bohemian Weasel 